"Casey, pass me that wrench," Eustace says, pointing to the correct tool without wavering his brown eyes from beneath the hood of the car he's currently working on.
Casey glances at the inner workings of the car, smirking lightly before he grabs the tool and hands it to the man. Harry flips through a comic book nearby, humming lightly to the music playing on their beat up stereo. Casey finds himself smiling again, loving the feel of the mechanics shop. It's so comfortable and familiar, plus Harry and Eustace make great conversationalists. Casey likes listening to Harry gush about the latest sports updates or Eustace mentioning other global news involving politics and social justice. Although Casey never pays attention to this sort of stuff in school, coming from these two it sounds interesting. They care so much about the world and the people in it.
The teen watches as Eustace fiddles around with the inner workings of the vintage Camaro, the man's blond hair tied back in the ponytail that Casey has come to recognize is his normal work hairstyle.
"So...Eustace, Harry, can I ask you guys something?" Casey asks, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Shoot and you may hit a bullseye, my friend," Harry responds, flicking one hoop earring lightly as he flips a page in his reading material.
"What the dork said," Eustace agrees, a teasing smirk falling across his young face.
"How'd you guys get all this going? I mean...it's awesome," Casey says, his face unable to remain neutral as his lips curl upwards again.
Harry glances up from his magazine, uncrossing his legs as he sits up a bit. He gestures towards his blond husband, waiting for him to continue. Eustace smirks wider as he places the wrench down, wiping oil off his knuckles.
"Ah, cars were always my thing," he says. "Harry and I met in high school, and when we both took some time off for college, I worked and scraped and saved. Once I got the money for it, I opened up this little place." He sighs wistfully before he rolls his shoulders. "I consider it the most manly aspect of myself, considering how Harry's the man in our relationship."
"Sports!" Harry whoops, purposely making his voice low and more stereotypically male.
Both men laugh at the action, making Casey laugh too. The teen brushes off his shirt as he leans against the Camaro, scuffing his shoe against the concrete floor.
"Yeah, I was just wondering. I'm still sorta figuring the whole...job thing out," he admits.
"What sort of things are you thinking about right now, kiddo?" Harry asks, his pale blue eyes growing more excited.
Casey flashes a gap-filled grin. "Professional hockey player or international bounty hunter."
He makes his fingers look like guns and pretends to shoot them. Eustace laughs, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.
"That's not a bad dream," he says. "I wanted to be a Mecha Warrior when I was really little. You know, like that one older cartoon?"
"Super Robo Mecha Force 5," Casey says. "My friends watch that all the time!"
"Your friends have excellent taste."
Casey smiles as he looks to Harry again, another question burning at the back of his mind. "So...what do you do for a living, Harry?"
"Oh, I used to be a sports announcer for the local teams here," he responds, mimicking the look of a microphone near his mouth. "He shoots, he scores! WHOOP WHOOP!" He laughs. "Other than that, I was just playing the...stay-at-home dad role, you know?"
Casey, although surprised to hear the mention of kids, doesn't settle on that for too long. "Nice. I don't think I could ever be a stay-at-home dad. I've got too much awesome to deal with before that happens."
He does a few fake punches. Harry grins widely and holds his hand up, earning a fist bump from the nineteen-year-old.
"Okay, you chuckle-heads, this car ain't gonna fix itself," Eustace says. "Back to work, Casey. This isn't what I'm not paying you for." He chuckles at his own joke.
Casey composes himself, scooting back to Eustace's side. As they get back to work, Casey's eyes travel to the blond as he works. His t-shirt has slipped down a bit, revealing a large white scar on his shoulder and part of his neck. Casey's eyebrows knit together, not noticing when Eustace's dark brown eyes flicker back to the boy.
"Noticing the scar, huh?" he asks, his voice calm and soothing.
Casey jumps. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to stare."
"Nah, it's okay. A lot of people stare when they see it." He smiles, his eyes closing as the gesture brightens his face. "You know how people are with scars. They can't help but scrutinize the imperfections."
Casey nods, casting his gaze downwards. "Yeah, I know what that's like. I've got a friend who deals with that..." He forces a tiny smile as he adjusts his bandana. "Uh...how'd you get yours?"
Harry's calm smile falters. Eustace glances at him, the two men seeming to have a silent conversation with just gestures and facial expressions.
"I can...but you have to take me seriously," the blond offers. When Casey nods eagerly, he fluffs his bangs a few times and takes a deep breath. "Well...I was attacked by a strange beast a few years back. It was...what was it?"
"A panther!" Harry answers.
"Right, a panther," Eustace says. "It attacked us when we were out on a walk. We think it must've escaped from the zoo, except it wasn't like any sort of normal panther. It was jet black with piercing white eyes, and when Harry tried to fight it off-"
"It was cold as ice and made me feel like I couldn't support my own weight anymore," the brunet man adds. "I fell asleep within a couple minutes of fighting it!"
Eustace nods, touching the pale scar on his neck. "It caught me on the shoulder, hurt like hell...and when I went to the doctors, none of the antibiotics they gave me worked to heal it. It nearly got infected."
"It was one of the worst days of my life," Harry whispers. "Eust was so weak, his fever was so high, I thought he was on death's door. But..."
"But something healed me. I went to sleep with this wound, the next day I woke up to only seeing this scar," Eustace says. "Harry and I believe...that God sent us a guardian angel to heal us. Call us crazy."
"Other people have," Harry adds, his tone soft and rather hurt.
Casey doesn't respond, his face slack. He doesn't believe it's a guardian angel, of course, but he isn't about to tell Harry and Eustace who he believes it was. Some of the stuff that Shadow told him makes more sense now; mainly how she knew how to help Raphael. Even so, this raises more questions for the teen.
"Wow...that's amazing," he admits. "I'm glad you're okay."
"We are too," Harry says, both their faces flooding with relief at the vigilante's acceptance.
"Come on, kiddo, more work to be done," Eustace says, nudging his shoulder gently.
----------
It's dark out by the time Casey leaves the mechanics shop, the cooling air of winter blowing against him as he walks. It's still rather nice out for the start of the cold season, something he's grateful for. Even if it were colder, he's got too much on his mind to really be able to notice it if that were the case.
"Shadow? Are you around here?" he asks, checking the same general alleyways that she always seems to be around. "I know you're probably still mad, but I really-"
"Want to talk to me? I don't get it, Hockey Puck. Honestly."
He jumps yet again, his heart rate spiking as he spins around. She hovers behind him, her neutral countenance making him wary of her hidden emotions. He still smiles at the sight of her.
"Shadow...hey," he whispers. "You still angry at me?"
She shakes her head. "No...I've got a solid grip on my sheer terror," she jokes flatly. "What's up?"
"Why did you help them?"
She rolls her eyes. "Blunt. Thank you for that vague statement."
"Why did you help the Nezbits? It had to be you who saved him from that infection. That's why you said you had done it before," he says. "Why?"
She doesn't answer for a second, a long breath leaving her as her bright eyes fall shut. "I wanted to do the right thing."
He arches an eyebrow. "Really? Doing the right thing never seemed to be the reasoning behind helping me. You always make me beg for it."
"So what? I don't need to explain my actions," she utters. "I've got to go."
She turns around, but he lunges forwards, fuelled by a flare of anger at her refusal. He tries to grab her wrist, but once again his hand passes straight through her body with a jolt of cold. He lets out a cuss word, instantly causing her to stop in her tracks.
"Why can't I just touch you?!" he demands, his frustration evident as he stamps his foot against the cold sidewalk. "One stupid little touch! That's all!" He growls as he sticks one finger up, his body trembling. "Is this why you're always so emotionless and dead to the world? How can you live like this?!"
She doesn't turn to him, her shoulders and neck scrunching as she flinches, her teeth gritting together. She shakes her head, her shadowy hair swaying back and forth slowly as a choked noise passes her lips. She knows that everything he's saying can be taken as a rhetorical question. She doesn't need to give him an answer.
"Welcome to my life, Casey," she whispers. "I told you before...it's awful."
He doesn't try to stop her when she melts off into the shadow again.