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darktrent182TITLE: Vignette - The First Meeting of Minds
DISCLAIMER: The Dresden Files doesn't belong to me – the TV series belongs to Lionsgate, and the characters themselves were created by Jim Butcher. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: The Dresden Files
PAIRING: Harry/Bob UST
WORD COUNT: 7,184
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Major spoilers for What About Bob?. Minor spoilers for Birds of a Feather, Walls, Bad Blood, and Soul Beneficiary. Also minor spoiler for Blood Rites.
SUMMARY: After the events in What About Bob?, Harry and Bob get a visitor.
PRAISE BE: A warm fuzzy blankie of thank you goes out to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shiplizard, who beta'd and wrote a few lines when I was stuck. And another warm fuzzy blankie of thank you goes out to beachkid for beta-reading, encouragement, and questions. I wouldn't have been able to make it without their patience and awesomeness. Thank you, guys!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is part of the Forged series, which starts with Desperate Measures. You might want to read that first to understand what's going on.
***
It took me a minute to catch my breath. The last time I had seen the picture of me and my dad had been when Murphy had waved it around the first time she came to talk to me about my uncle's death, and... well, the experience didn't really leave me with fond memories. Before that had been at my uncle's estate, and the less said about that, the better.
I put the picture down on the mantel, next to a couple other pictures that I'd managed to hold onto over the years, and sat down on the couch.
"Harry?" Bob said, emerging from the wall leading to the lab.
"I'm fine. I just..." I shook my head, not looking at him. "Gimme some time, okay? I'm not going to be real good company right now."
I could feel him look at me for a long moment before he said, "I'll be in the lab if you need me."
I nodded. "Okay." I didn't thank him, but I think he understood.
When he disappeared from my peripheral vision, I relaxed into the couch. I hadn't realized I'd tensed up in the first place, but after the past few days I've had, the adrenaline in my system wouldn't give it a rest.
In the past forty-eight hours, Tara had skull-napped Bob for my dead uncle's doppleganger, Murphy had been on my ass about my uncle's death, I'd nearly died, and Bob did die. Sure, Bob had only been pretending to go along with the doppleganger's plan to use me to bring my uncle back to life, but part of me wished he hadn't been such a damn good actor. He really had me going with all of the reasons he gave for turning on me, to the point where I had no hope of getting out of there alive.
My rational side pointed out that Bob needed to be that good at acting, or else Justin's doppleganger wouldn't have believed that he'd go along with any of it. He needed to say all those things in front of both Justins to make sure that they wouldn't stop him from using his magic to bring me back and kill the original Justin Morningway once and for all. If he hadn't, he'd still be alive, but he would be serving Justin, and I would be dead.
That didn't stop any of it from hurting, though.
The ends justified the means. He had to do it. It's just that he'd somehow known each of my own doubts and worries and concerns, and he'd exploited anything and everything he could. Ever since the one case that I'd worked with Murphy that dealt with three kids discovering a Hand of Glory, I'd always found myself wondering about Bob. Did he really want to be here, with me? Did he even want to be a ghost at all? Would he rather be at eternal rest, or mortal now that I knew it was possible? He'd given up his mortality to save me, but how much was he regretting it now? Would he hold it against me that he'd lost his one chance at being alive again?
And now that he was back to being dead and chained to his skull, did he want to be pestering me about the rent, worrying about where I was going to get money in order to eat and have a roof over my head? Saying no to Justin's money had been easy to do morally, since I didn't want any part of whatever family legacy he'd had planned for me, but it sure as hell didn't make paying the bills any easier.
Now that I'd had a taste of what it would be like if Bob betrayed me, I wondered just how much he hated his unlife with me.
I wish I could say that it's been blue skies and easy sailing, but Bob's reminded me time and again to ask for payment for playing Don Quixote against the forces of darkness, that one measly ad in the Yellow Pages wasn't exactly the kind of publicity wizards needed nowadays. The state of my kitchen or my cleaning habits around the lab usually provoked a comment or two, but I'd always thought they'd sounded fond.
Me being in love with him didn't help matters much, either.
I'd come to the conclusion years ago that while yes, I was in love with a ghost whose skull I'd been given guardianship of, I wasn't going to press the issue. There were the usual pitfalls of unrequited love not being returned, but the man had also been my teacher. Did he still think of me as his student, instead of a man in my own right? What did he think of me as a person, as a wizard? Hell, did he even think of me as a son he'd never had, since I got the impression that his former masters hadn't really gone with the idea of having him teach their kids?
So many questions, and I wasn't going to ask a single one of them. I didn't want to fish for compliments, and I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him why I was asking.
Stars and stones, what if I did tell him, and it made him feel uncomfortable? Or, even worse, what if he said that he wanted it as much as I did to avoid any awkwardness between us? I could do whatever I wanted, but Bob didn't have those kinds of options. I'd never want to force him to do anything he didn't want to do, but one command from me would be all it would take, and Bob would be powerless. The curse was designed to strip Bob of his control and give it to whoever owned his skull. Sure, I'd sworn on my own power that I would never hurt him, but that wouldn't stop me from breaking that oath. All it would do to me is weaken my ability to use my magic, and Bob would still have to do whatever I wanted. It was sickening to think that I could take away his ability to say no.
I got up and got a bottle of Mac's dark from one of the cabinets and wedged the top off. Only two left, but after the last couple of days, I needed it. I took a pull from the bottle and sat back down.
After five years, I would've thought I'd gotten over my uncle's death. He and Mom had been involved in some shadow wars or whatever -- at least, that's what Dad had called them -- and she'd died because of it. Justin himself had murdered my father in order to make sure that I wasn't "lost to obscurity". Justin had lied, murdered, stolen things from my father, done anything and everything to get what he wanted. Even giving Bob mortality had been to further his own ends. He was a self-serving bastard, and I should have hated him with every fiber of my being.
I should have, but every time I thought about how he'd died the first time, I couldn't stop feeling... sad, scared, guilty, you name it. He'd been my uncle, the man to give me a home and a family after I was orphaned. He'd made sure that I was taken care of, that I was taught what I needed to know about magic and about life in general, though that was really Bob's doing. If Bob had been my mentor and friend, Justin had been a guardian who hadn't really cared that much. Or, if he had, he didn't know how to show it.
Even when I heard Justin talking to his doppleganger, I could tell the difference. There hadn't been much of one, sure, but my uncle hadn't wanted to kill me. It would've meant some poor innocent soul would've died instead, but Justin hadn't wanted to kill me.
And now he was dead dead. Gone in a flash of green light.
I shook my head. I'd been able to get over Justin's death the first time around by throwing myself into work and research. Maybe it was time to get back into the habit. With Bob around to help and remind me that I wasn't as much of an evil bastard as my uncle, it might even be a little easier to sweep under the rug and never think of again.
Yeah, and if I really believed that, I should start asking around to see if there were any bridges in Brooklyn that were on the market.
A knock on the door jerked me out of my thoughts, and after grabbing my staff, I headed toward the office-area of the downstairs. I'd flipped the sign earlier because today wasn't a day that I was going to trust myself around customers, let alone other people. But, sometimes, somebody was in trouble who needed my help, regardless of whether I was open for business or not. Bianca had been able to exploit my knee-jerk sense of chivalry before. Despite how much I wanted to brood in silence, said knee-jerk reflex was making itself known again.
When I saw who was standing outside, his face partially obscured by the lettering on the window pane, I stopped.
And then I jerked the door open. "Ebenezar?"
Ebenezar McCoy beamed at me, his teeth white in his tanned face. "Hoss." When I kept staring at him, both of his wispy white eyebrows rose. "You going to invite me in?"
I shook my head quickly and stepped back. "Sure, c'mon in." I leaned my staff against the brick beside the door and looked at him. He was still wearing his usual white T-shirt and overalls, though the shoes looked new. His balding head was, if anything, still just as bald, and his blue eyes twinkled as he looked around my office.
"Interesting place you got here," Ebenezar offered, looking back up at me with a teasing look.
"What're you doing in Chicago?" I blurted out. When I realized how it sounded, I winced.
"What, I ain't allowed to visit?" Ebenezar asked curiously. "I seem to recall you telling me that I was welcome anytime."
I shook my head. "It's not that, sir. It's just... you never leave your farm," I said lamely. "I mean, this is the first time you've ever actually taken me up on it. What's up? Is something wrong?"
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me. "There have to be something wrong for me to visit?"
I shook my head again, feeling stupid. "Sorry, sir. It's been... busy the last couple of days."
"You don't say?" he shot me a curious look. "Well, how about we move somewhere a little less like work?" He looked around the office. "It looks like this place would be enough to unsettle anybody's nerves."
"Cute, sir." I shot him a wry look, but led the way down the hallway to my living room. "Home sweet home," I said, waving a hand grandly at the couch, the rugs covering the floorspace, and the various knickknacks and the pinball machine that I had around the room.
"Well, no wonder you're tense, Hoss," Ebenezar grunted, looking around the room and eying one of the wall-hangings. "Not making enough to get an office somewhere else? Your threshold must be terrible."
"No, sir," I responded, not wanting to get into a conversation about my finances or my lack of them. "Can I get you something to drink? Beer, milk, water?"
"A beer sounds good right about now," he said, glancing at a few things on the mantel before noticing my dad's poster. "The Astounding Dresden?"
"Dad's act," I reminded him, fishing a beer out of the cabinet and heading back to him. We'd talked about my dad when I was younger, but that had been some time ago. Or, at least it felt like it.
"Kinda looks like a Picasso," he remarked. He took the beer I offered him and wedged off the top. "Thanks."
I nodded, looking back up at the poster. Before Murphy had given me the picture of me and my dad, it had been the only thing that I'd had of my father, and while it was a bit faded, it was still real, still there. "I think Dad designed it before I was born."
Ebenezar nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it looks like it's from the '60s." He drank a little from the bottle, and then made an appreciative noise, looking down at it and then up at me. "What's this?"
"You ever heard of Mac's?" I asked. "Small pub here in Chicago? It's one of his microbrews."
He took another sip. "Good food?"
"I try to go when I have the money," I said.
Ebenezar nodded, eying me. "We'll have to go sometime."
We stood in companionable silence for a minute, both of us looking at my dad's poster, and then Ebenezar looked at me curiously. "How's the business going?"
I shrugged. "The pay's not great sometimes, but the work... well, it's satisfying?" I shot him a smile. "Why? Looking to to hang up a shingle here in town?"
Ebenezar chuckled, shaking his head. "Lord, no. I like my privacy just fine, and I wouldn't get it if I had to check in at the office." He looked around. "Or work from home. Have any problems with intruders?"
I thought back to the skinwalker, Brady and Caleb, Sharon the Necromancer. "Some." I shrugged. Master of understatement, that's me.
Ebenezar looked surprised. "Don't take this the wrong way, but how is your house still standing, Hoss? I could probably break your threshold like a twig, since you work out of the same place you sleep, and the last I checked, you weren't all that up on the protection side of things."
"I said I was sorry," I said. I was still a bit sour over it.
"Setting up a simple ward, and you set my barn on fire." He grinned. "And the cat's still nowhere to be seen."
I sighed. "Sorry."
Ebenezar looked at me steadily, his grin diminishing. "It's all right. The new one's fireproof, and that's all I'll ever ask for."
I smiled a little. "The new cat?"
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me. "You're not as funny as you think you are, Hoss." Of course, he was smiling when he said it, so I took it with a grain of salt.
"Of course not, sir," I replied. "You wanna see the secret of my success at repelling home invasions?"
"This should be good."
"I like to think so, yes." I pointed at one of the support pillars, more specifically the sigils I'd painted on the wood. "Behold, the wards."
Ebenezar studied the sigils, his eyes following them down to the floor, and then up toward the ceiling, before looking back up at me. "This is pretty intricate stuff. I didn't think you knew half of what these did, let alone know what order to put them in."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Your confidence is overwhelming, sir. Better stop before my ego overinflates."
Ebenezar snorted, and looked at the sigils again. "If your threshold wasn't as bad as it was, these would actually do a lot better at keeping stuff out, Hoss."
Considering that almost all of the ward equations had been Bob's, I wasn't surprised. "Well, at least I know why Bob keeps harping about me renting some office space."
"Bob?" Ebenezar frowned, not recognizing the name.
"Remember when my uncle died?" I asked, surprised that my voice was as level as it was. "Five years ago?"
He nodded. "Heard you were brought before the Council. But what's that have to do with Bob?"
Bob chose that moment to walk through the wall-hanging that Ebenezar had been looking at earlier. "Harry, I think I've come across something--" When he saw Ebenezar, he stopped dead in his tracks (pardon the pun) and stared at him.
Ebenezar blinked, surprised by the sudden appearance. He looked at me and asked, "I take it this is Bob?"
It was strange to see Bob straighten his back and narrow his blue-green eyes until he looked like a different person altogether. "Why, Blackstaff McCoy, what an unexpected surprise," he murmured. It was very proper, very polite, and threatened violence. Ordinarily, that voice would get me going, but curiosity was outweighing long-familiar lust.
Ebenezar visibly tensed. "I hadn't realized Harry here had given you a nickname."
Bob had been surprised by the comment, but he didn't want to show it, and the only way I knew that was having known him for more than twenty years. "May I ask as to the nature of this visit?"
I looked between the two of them. "Hey, guys? I'm still here. What the hell is a Blackstaff?"
Bob turned to me, ignoring Ebenezar glaring at him. "The Blackstaff of the High Council is charged with the more... gruesome details of law enforcement among the magical community." He looked at Ebenezar, and almost seemed to be relishing the man's annoyance. "While not a Warden, he has carte blanche to break any of the laws of magic as he sees fit while in the course of fulfilling his duties."
"What, like Clive?" I asked.
Bob frowned, and then looked at Ebenezar, his expression one of polite curiosity. "I'm not sure what position Clive held within the Council before his death. I seem to recall that he told you that he retired. Perhaps you could enlighten us, Blackstaff?"
"I don't have to tell you anything," Ebenezar shot back at Bob. "And before he fills your head with anymore ideas about the position, it's not about being an assassin. You know that there's more out there than wizards, Harry. There's some groups that know about the laws that the Council's set up for itself, and there's some groups that wouldn't mind seeing it done away with entirely. Because they know about our laws, and what we do to those that break them, they could use our laws against us. And that's where the Blackstaff comes in."
"You tell me that you're not an assassin, but you go after the people who would try to use the Council's laws against them," I snorted.
"I don't kill people unless there's lives at stake," he growled. "Or inaction would mean more people would get hurt or killed. Jesus, I know you have a brain, Hoss. Try using it sometime."
I opened my mouth to say something, but then Bob moved forward, standing just a little in front of me. If I walked forward, my shoulder would end up passing through his.
"Perhaps, Blackstaff," Bob began in a silky voice, "you should state your business? Or are you the representative that the Council chose to send to investigate the matter?"
I had been about to say something, but that stopped me in my verbal tracks.
Ebenezar sighed through his nose. "I am."
"Bob?" I looked at him expectantly.
"The Council routinely sends a representative to investigate instances when the laws of magic have been broken. Considering that two have been broken in the past forty-eight hours, I was expecting someone to arrive fairly soon," Bob replied calmly, as if he weren't facing down Ebenezar and glaring at him like he could set the man's clothes on fire. "I must admit, I was expecting Morgan rather than the Blackstaff, so we might be in trouble." He glanced over his shoulder and shot me a look that told me to keep an eye on the exit.
I looked from Bob to Ebenezar. "Are you here to kill me?" I asked, sounding a lot more calm than I felt.
Ebenezar looked at me. "I'm just here to find out what happened. Since I know how you get into trouble, I thought you might know."
I noticed Bob twitch in surprise, but I kept my eyes on Ebenezar. "That's not all of it, is it?"
The older wizard smiled, but he didn't look amused. "If it weren't for Morgan's report, Mai would be stringing you up by the short hairs, Hoss."
I winced at the mental image. "That's not really news, sir. Are they screaming for my head?"
He shook his head. "No, but they want to know what happened, and they want to know five days ago."
"Would you settle for a Reader's Digest version?" I asked hopefully.
"Hoss," Ebenezar growled. "I don't answer to Mai specifically."
"I know," I said.
"So, don't you think that you can trust me?" he asked, sounding tired.
I stared at him for a long moment, meeting his gaze. We'd soulgazed a long time ago, a little while after we first met, so there was no worry of it happening again. We'd taken the measure of each other's souls, and I knew, deep down, that I could trust him. I just couldn't trust him with everything about my life. After years of me keeping secrets from him, it felt like a good time to let him in on one of them.
"Harry--" Bob said quickly, sounding worried.
"I'm fine, Bob," I told him. "Justin Morningway had a doppleganger made. He was responsible for stealing Bob from me, and then he gave Bob mortality in exchange for having the real Justin brought back to life."
Bob snorted. "He didn't have the doppleganger made, he created it himself," he muttered. "And while we're telling the Blackstaff all about the day we've had, I was the one who murdered the original Morningway using my lifeforce in order to ensure that Harry survived the ordeal." He glanced over his shoulder at me sourly. "Is there anything else we wish to tell him? The location of the family jewels, by any chance?"
"Already gave those to charity, Bob," I replied, giving Ebenezar a smile that said we argued like this all the time.
Ebenezar's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Hoss. It sounds like you're cooking up something to feed to the Council." From the way he was looking at me, it was like those times on his front porch when he conveniently forgot things. "How would you explain the Council not knowing that Justin had a doppleganger?"
"Creating dopplegangers aren't against any of the laws of magic," Bob cut in. "And the only reason the Council did not see fit to check if Morningway created one is because he had them so thoroughly convinced that he wasn't evil that they barely looked at his activities at all. If Morningway hadn't died five years ago, I shudder to think what state the High Council would be in now."
Ebenezar frowned at Bob, and then at me. "Does he ever shut up?"
"Not really," I replied honestly, "but I wouldn't have it any other way."
The older man blinked, and then looked at Bob curiously. "You brought Morningway back from the dead."
Bob stopped himself from saying something, and nodded curtly.
"And you killed him using your own lifeforce," Ebenezar continued.
"He'd used my lifeforce to bring Justin back," I said, "and then when Justin was busy monologuing, Bob got the drop on him, returned my lifeforce back to me, and then used the rest of his lifeforce to kill Justin for good."
"That sounded absolutely convoluted." Bob sighed.
"Thanks." I grinned. "So, at the end of the day, Bob's still dead. Even if you wanted to punish him for what he did, you can't because he's not alive anymore, and he's back in my possession."
"And what about you, Hoss?" Ebenezar asked, one white eyebrow lifting.
"What about me?" I frowned.
Bob sighed heavily. "As the owner of my skull, you could be punished for any misdeeds I might commit while under your care."
"But Justin's doppleganger had Tara steal you from me," I pointed out.
"Then the High Council could use that as proof of your unsuitability to watch over such a priceless artifact," Bob replied, sounding impatient. "Now, would you mind not asking anymore questions while the Blackstaff can hear us? I'd rather not give him anymore ideas on ways that this encounter could turn out."
"Bob," I said slowly. "Remember when I came home the first time, and I mentioned that I'd only met one wizard while I was traveling around the world?"
Bob frowned at me over his shoulder, the look on his face telling me he wasn't going to like what I was going to say.
I nodded at Ebenezar. "That's him. We've been friends for years -- we kept in touch. Now, if you don't mind, I highly doubt that Ebenezar's going to kill me and cover his tracks." I might have looked at Ebenezar pleadingly. "Right, sir?"
Ebenezar shook his head. "How the hell you get tangled up in these kinds of situations is really beyond me, Hoss."
"It's a gift?" I suggested.
"More like a curse," he snorted in reply.
"No," Bob said, and I could almost see him pursing his lips. "The boy's usually that foolish. Most of his trouble is of his own making."
Bob and Ebenezar traded smiles that spoke volumes about me before I added my two cents. "Now that everyone's convinced that there's not going to be any killing," I grumbled, "would you like a seat, Ebenezar?"
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me and shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm curious about the neighborhood, though. Let's walk."
Bob stiffened where he stood, and I shot Ebenezar a dark look. "Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of Bob."
Ebenezar sighed. "Harry, the Council's... concerned. I've heard of Bainbridge's reputation, and if I didn't know you, I'd be worried too."
"Reputation?" I prompted. I had a feeling I knew what this was going to sound like. Bob looked stony-faced as he watched Ebenezar.
"According to them, Bainbridge has a way of twisting his masters, turning them evil, sometimes even without them realizing it. Considering what's happened in the past couple of days, they're going to want to know that you're not a warlock."
"That is such bullshit," I snarled, feeling a surge of protectiveness rise up and want to fight back. This was Bob he was talking about, not some black artifact without a brain or a freaking soul. It took a bit of effort, but when I spoke again, I kept my mind on the facts instead of how much I wanted to shout that Bob was a good man, damn it. "Bob's skull was stolen from me. He was returned to mortality without my knowledge. Hell's bells, my own freaking uncle used Bob to try to kill me. Where, in all of that mess, am I going to have the time to suddenly turn evil?"
"Don't you think I don't know that, boy?" Ebenezar snapped. "The Council's not real well known for making well-thought-out decisions when it's scared. They think that you can turn evil at the drop of a hat, and while I think they're just blindly reacting to a perceived threat instead of thinking for themselves like they ought to, they're not going to listen to me."
"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?" I demanded. "How many times do I have to stand in front of the Merlin before he believes that I'm not out to kill everyone on the Council?"
"The Merlin's set in his ways, Hoss." Ebenezar shook his head. "And once you break a law, in his eyes, you're a law-breaker until you're dead."
"Great," I grumbled. "So, how am I supposed to prove I'm not evil?"
Ebenezar reached into a pocket of his overalls and withdrew a small, black pouch. "Hold out your hand."
I frowned at it. "What's in that?"
"Think of it as a detector," Ebenezar said with a smile. "Just hold out your hand."
I did as he told me, and a small, flat rock landed in my palm. It wasn't much larger than a Kennedy half-dollar, and my face was reflected back at me in its glossy black surface. "What is this thing?" I asked.
Bob, who'd been quiet for most of this, walked around until he was standing to my right, peering at the stone curiously. "My, my, I hadn't realized these were still in use." He glanced up at Ebenezar. "I thought the ward hounds were more reliable?"
Ebenezar snorted. "There's no way I would've been able to have an active ward hound following me around in the middle of Chicago. That's just crazy." He nodded at the rock in my hand. "That'll do just fine, and if the Council wants to raise a fuss, I'll deal with it."
"Okay," I said, looking at the rock. It didn't look any different. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Just hold onto it," Ebenezar said.
"Do I need to concentrate or anything?"
Ebenezar shook his head. "When it gets warm, let me know, and I'll take it back."
I was about to ask again what the hell I was holding onto, but Bob smiled. "Think of it as a magical version of a thermometer, Harry. It's older than the pendants and ward hounds, but it is still accurate to the same degree. It just takes longer to get the results."
"You're using a magical thermometer to see how evil I am?" I asked Ebenezar. "Why not one of those crystal pendants?"
"Those only check to see if there's dark magic at your chakra points. This--" Ebenezar nodded at the rock in my hand, "will stay keyed to you until someone else touches it." He held up the bag he'd carried the rock in, shaking it a little. "And I'm keeping it in here until I can show someone at the Council and be done with this foolishness."
"You don't think I've gone to the Dark Side?" I asked, trying to sound calm. From the look on Ebenezar's face, I didn't succeed too well.
"If you became a warlock, you wouldn't be working as a consultant for the Chicago police department," he grunted, shifting on from foot to foot out of habit. "You'd be doing something that made you quick money, or you'd be so far off the radar, nobody would be able to find you."
"Why do you say that?" I frowned, curious.
"Do you know how many times I had trouble keeping tabs on you while you were running around the world?" I must have looked surprised, because he chuckled. "Stars and stones, Hoss, you're Maggie's boy, and you don't think I'm going to keep tabs on you?" He shook his head. "We may've had a falling out when she was younger, but I think she would've wanted to make sure her boy was safe."
I knew when we'd first met that Ebenezar had known my mother. He'd said as much, but more than that, there were times when he would mention her fondly. Sometimes I asked about her, but most of the time, when he spoke about her, it was because of something I said or did that reminded him of her.
I shook my head. "I wasn't trying to hide."
"You must have one hell of a guardian angel, then," Ebenezar said. "But, that's really beside the point. I don't think you're evil, but the Council's not going to listen to me."
"Not even because you're the Blackstaff?" I asked.
Ebenezar shook his head. "It's not that great a position, Hoss. They treat me like anybody else not on the Senior Council, and the only perk is that I can do whatever it takes to save people, and not have to worry about the Council hounding me about it."
I frowned, looking back at the rock in my hand. "And they're going to believe this thing?"
"It hasn't been your friend for about ten years or so," Ebenezar pointed out. "I'm sure there's still going to be people who'll complain, but they're going to complain no matter what I do."
"How is this going to change things, then?" I asked. "Because something like breaking two laws in one day is probably the proof that anyone who hates me needs to execute me on the spot."
"It may not change anything with the ones that don't like you, but they'll be able to tell that none of the magic used at the morgue was yours."
"They can tell that?" I asked, surprised.
Ebenezar shrugged. "Magic has a way of etching itself in places, especially when it's powerful."
"And this rock?"
"It'll satisfy some questions people have." He glanced at the rock in my palm. "Looks about ready."
When I looked down, the rock had changed to a rosy red hue, a black symbol drawn on top that I didn't recognize. When I rolled it around my palm, it felt warm to the touch. "What's the symbol mean?"
Ebenezar frowned, looking at the symbol when I showed it to him. And after a moment, he shook his head. "I'm not sure, Hoss." He held open the small bag for me. I had a feeling he wasn't telling me the truth.
"If you knew, you wouldn't tell me, would you," I said, dropping the rock inside disgustedly.
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me. "If I find out anything about it, I'll let you know."
"Sure, Ebenezar," I grunted. "Do you need to do anything else with me? Maybe have me try on some thumbscrews?"
The older man sighed, looking disappointed. "No, I don't need to do anything else," he said evenly. "I think I've kept you long enough."
Glancing at Bob, I saw that he was just watching Ebenezar, so I nodded at the hallway back to the storefront. "Here, I'll walk you out." I paused for a moment, watching him and wondering what Bob had seen in his face.
Ebenezar nodded, and as he walked ahead of me, I realized that I had been treating him more like I'd treat someone that the Council sent. Knowing what I knew about the man, Ebenezar wasn't someone that went on errands, not unless he had his own reasons for doing them. There were a number of times that he could have sent me out to restock on farm supplies, but we'd gone together because we bonded in Home Depot over equipment and hardware. Sure, we had to steer clear of the newer gadgets to make sure they didn't start smoking while we were there, but it was still time we shared when we weren't actively working hard around the farm. Outside of evenings spent on the front porch, watching the fireflies come out, I liked the trips to Home Depot the best.
Not only that, but Ebenezar hadn't come in with his worn old wizard's staff. Had it been Morgan or Mai facing me down, interrogating me about what had happened, things probably would've been quicker, but they would've gone a lot worse for me and Bob. Ebenezar had saved both of us from a lot of tension and worry by coming here, no matter what Bob said about the Blackstaff being the more dangerous of the three options, and my guess was, the old man knew it.
As I opened the door for him, I cleared my throat. I don't do apologies that well, but I hoped this would work. "Um, Ebenezar?"
Ebenezar paused, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Keep my room open for me, will you?" I asked.
"Been thinking about taking a vacation from city life?" he asked, his voice warm. I felt better already.
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "It's crazy here, especially in the winter time."
Ebenezar smiled a little, and nodded. "Let me know when you want to drop by, and I'll make sure there's clean sheets waiting."
"I'd appreciate it, sir."
"Thought you might." Ebenezar nodded. "Later, Hoss."
"Later, sir."
I watched him step over the threshold, and then walk down the street to a familiar 1930's pick-up truck. Closing the door, I leaned my forehead against it and sighed heavily.
"Harry?" Bob asked.
"I'm all right," I said reflexively. I gave myself another moment or two before I locked the door again and made sure the sign still showed I was closed for the day. "That went well."
"Much better than it would have had Mai or Morgan been the one to pay us a visit," Bob agreed.
"Yeah, I kind of gathered that," I said. "Eb's a good man."
"Indeed," Bob remarked. "I may have been... a bit preemptive in informing you that he was the Blackstaff."
I frowned, surprised by the admission. "Oh?"
"Had I known you two were friends, I wouldn't have brought it up," Bob said, sounding almost peevish.
"Well, it's not like I told you about him before," I said. "Thanks for sticking up for me."
Bob cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes, well, you didn't need to be accused of things that you didn't do."
"You were risking a lot by telling him that you'd broken two laws of magic," I said slowly, watching him.
"You did point out that I hadn't profited from my crimes, since I'm still as dead as I was before my skull was stolen from you," Bob replied. "There would have been little that he could do to me directly."
"He could've hurt you," I murmured. "He knew who you were, after all."
Bob smiled a little, looking wry and defiant at the same time. I'm not sure how he does it, but I've always loved how expressive his face can be. "I believe the saying is 'no pain, no gain'?"
"And maybe I don't want to ever have to see you in that kind of pain," I told him.
Bob glanced down for a moment, not meeting my gaze. "You're a compassionate soul, Harry. I'm sure that if it were possible, you would have tried to save your uncle's life, despite all that he's done to you."
There're times when I'm able to know what Bob's thinking because I've just known him for that long, but I tend to forget it's a two-way street. "He was still my uncle, Bob," I said softly. "I would've wanted to see justice done, but I didn't want to be the one to kill him. It's a little too close to revenge that way."
Bob's eyes rose to meet mine again, and after a long moment of looking at me, he nodded like he'd just learned something about me. I've gotten used to those kinds of looks over the years, but they still surprise me when they happen. I tend to think that I'm not really that complicated, but then I see that look in Bob's eyes and I wonder just how much of a mystery I am to him.
"Bob, do you ever--" I stopped my mouth before I finished the question. Of course, Bob would never leave it like that.
"Do I ever?" Bob prompted gently.
"If you could choose, would you rather be at rest than the way you are now?" I asked lamely. It wasn't the original question I was going to ask, but it was another one that had been nagging at me from earlier.
Bob blinked, looking surprised before he frowned, mulling it over. "Perhaps? The limitations due to the curse have vexed me for centuries, and I'm never quite used to them, but... had I been allowed to rest, I would never have met you."
"So," I asked slowly, remembering what he'd told me when I was laying on a slab in the morgue, "it hasn't been hell, working with me?"
Bob's eyes narrowed before he realized what I was talking about. "I... won't pretend that everything has been roses, but... having known you, having passed on my years of experience to you, having seen you become the man you are today... This could never be Hell, Harry."
"What could be?" I asked softly. I have a bad habit of picking at scabs, and I knew that if I didn't get to the bottom of this, I was always going to wonder.
Bob watched me for a moment more before he looked away. "How many times have you gotten into trouble where you needed someone to watch out for you, someone who understood the world you live in and accepted it for what it is, not what it might be or what it should be?" He shook his head, his voice still soft as he spoke. "How many times have you walked out the front door, not knowing if you would return that evening? That is the hell I referred to."
I stared at him for a long moment before I cleared my throat. "Oh." What else could I have said? It's not everyday the object of my affections tells me that not being able to watch my back and worrying that I might not come home was his version of Hell.
"Oh, Harry," Bob murmured, shaking his head. "Sometimes you don't know your own worth."
"You know me," I said with a shrug, trying to cover up how embarrassed I felt. "Always ready to throw myself in harm's way."
"Yes, you do have a distressing tendency towards nearly getting yourself killed on a regular basis," Bob remarked dryly. "I would have regretted losing you."
There really wasn't much you could say to that. At least, something that wasn't smart-assed.
For a moment, Bob gave me a look that asked me not to push. That, as much as he was all that I had left in the world, I was all that he had too. Bob looked away for a moment, but I'd already seen it; I understood what he was telling me with his eyes that he wouldn't say out loud.
I'm not the only one who has trouble saying stuff out loud. Bob's just had more experience with not-talking than I do. He'd had just as bad a shock as I had. And he could probably use a little company. Or, you know, I could brood alone in the dark and pretend I was the only one who'd been hurt and scared. I could do that. Or...
"Hey, Bob?"
Bob's eyebrows rose, and I could see him mentally preparing to deflect a barrage of questions.
"You said that you thought you came across something earlier?" I asked, remembering when he'd walked into the room while I was talking to Ebenezar.
Bob blinked, and then nodded. "Yes, I was working on an old project of mine, and then I'd remembered you had been looking into modifying your shield bracelet to defend against a wider range of things that could attack you," he explained. "The equations should still be in the lab."
"Great," I said, heading down the hallway and placing one hand on the door to the lab. "Shall we?"
Bob smiled, a flash of crooked teeth making me smile a little myself. "Let's."
END
To start from the beginning, this way to Desperate Measures.
This way to the prequel, Vignette - The First Oath.
This way to the sequel, Vignette - The First Spring Cleaning
DISCLAIMER: The Dresden Files doesn't belong to me – the TV series belongs to Lionsgate, and the characters themselves were created by Jim Butcher. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: The Dresden Files
PAIRING: Harry/Bob UST
WORD COUNT: 7,184
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Major spoilers for What About Bob?. Minor spoilers for Birds of a Feather, Walls, Bad Blood, and Soul Beneficiary. Also minor spoiler for Blood Rites.
SUMMARY: After the events in What About Bob?, Harry and Bob get a visitor.
PRAISE BE: A warm fuzzy blankie of thank you goes out to
shiplizard, who beta'd and wrote a few lines when I was stuck. And another warm fuzzy blankie of thank you goes out to beachkid for beta-reading, encouragement, and questions. I wouldn't have been able to make it without their patience and awesomeness. Thank you, guys!AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is part of the Forged series, which starts with Desperate Measures. You might want to read that first to understand what's going on.
***
It took me a minute to catch my breath. The last time I had seen the picture of me and my dad had been when Murphy had waved it around the first time she came to talk to me about my uncle's death, and... well, the experience didn't really leave me with fond memories. Before that had been at my uncle's estate, and the less said about that, the better.
I put the picture down on the mantel, next to a couple other pictures that I'd managed to hold onto over the years, and sat down on the couch.
"Harry?" Bob said, emerging from the wall leading to the lab.
"I'm fine. I just..." I shook my head, not looking at him. "Gimme some time, okay? I'm not going to be real good company right now."
I could feel him look at me for a long moment before he said, "I'll be in the lab if you need me."
I nodded. "Okay." I didn't thank him, but I think he understood.
When he disappeared from my peripheral vision, I relaxed into the couch. I hadn't realized I'd tensed up in the first place, but after the past few days I've had, the adrenaline in my system wouldn't give it a rest.
In the past forty-eight hours, Tara had skull-napped Bob for my dead uncle's doppleganger, Murphy had been on my ass about my uncle's death, I'd nearly died, and Bob did die. Sure, Bob had only been pretending to go along with the doppleganger's plan to use me to bring my uncle back to life, but part of me wished he hadn't been such a damn good actor. He really had me going with all of the reasons he gave for turning on me, to the point where I had no hope of getting out of there alive.
My rational side pointed out that Bob needed to be that good at acting, or else Justin's doppleganger wouldn't have believed that he'd go along with any of it. He needed to say all those things in front of both Justins to make sure that they wouldn't stop him from using his magic to bring me back and kill the original Justin Morningway once and for all. If he hadn't, he'd still be alive, but he would be serving Justin, and I would be dead.
That didn't stop any of it from hurting, though.
The ends justified the means. He had to do it. It's just that he'd somehow known each of my own doubts and worries and concerns, and he'd exploited anything and everything he could. Ever since the one case that I'd worked with Murphy that dealt with three kids discovering a Hand of Glory, I'd always found myself wondering about Bob. Did he really want to be here, with me? Did he even want to be a ghost at all? Would he rather be at eternal rest, or mortal now that I knew it was possible? He'd given up his mortality to save me, but how much was he regretting it now? Would he hold it against me that he'd lost his one chance at being alive again?
And now that he was back to being dead and chained to his skull, did he want to be pestering me about the rent, worrying about where I was going to get money in order to eat and have a roof over my head? Saying no to Justin's money had been easy to do morally, since I didn't want any part of whatever family legacy he'd had planned for me, but it sure as hell didn't make paying the bills any easier.
Now that I'd had a taste of what it would be like if Bob betrayed me, I wondered just how much he hated his unlife with me.
I wish I could say that it's been blue skies and easy sailing, but Bob's reminded me time and again to ask for payment for playing Don Quixote against the forces of darkness, that one measly ad in the Yellow Pages wasn't exactly the kind of publicity wizards needed nowadays. The state of my kitchen or my cleaning habits around the lab usually provoked a comment or two, but I'd always thought they'd sounded fond.
Me being in love with him didn't help matters much, either.
I'd come to the conclusion years ago that while yes, I was in love with a ghost whose skull I'd been given guardianship of, I wasn't going to press the issue. There were the usual pitfalls of unrequited love not being returned, but the man had also been my teacher. Did he still think of me as his student, instead of a man in my own right? What did he think of me as a person, as a wizard? Hell, did he even think of me as a son he'd never had, since I got the impression that his former masters hadn't really gone with the idea of having him teach their kids?
So many questions, and I wasn't going to ask a single one of them. I didn't want to fish for compliments, and I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him why I was asking.
Stars and stones, what if I did tell him, and it made him feel uncomfortable? Or, even worse, what if he said that he wanted it as much as I did to avoid any awkwardness between us? I could do whatever I wanted, but Bob didn't have those kinds of options. I'd never want to force him to do anything he didn't want to do, but one command from me would be all it would take, and Bob would be powerless. The curse was designed to strip Bob of his control and give it to whoever owned his skull. Sure, I'd sworn on my own power that I would never hurt him, but that wouldn't stop me from breaking that oath. All it would do to me is weaken my ability to use my magic, and Bob would still have to do whatever I wanted. It was sickening to think that I could take away his ability to say no.
I got up and got a bottle of Mac's dark from one of the cabinets and wedged the top off. Only two left, but after the last couple of days, I needed it. I took a pull from the bottle and sat back down.
After five years, I would've thought I'd gotten over my uncle's death. He and Mom had been involved in some shadow wars or whatever -- at least, that's what Dad had called them -- and she'd died because of it. Justin himself had murdered my father in order to make sure that I wasn't "lost to obscurity". Justin had lied, murdered, stolen things from my father, done anything and everything to get what he wanted. Even giving Bob mortality had been to further his own ends. He was a self-serving bastard, and I should have hated him with every fiber of my being.
I should have, but every time I thought about how he'd died the first time, I couldn't stop feeling... sad, scared, guilty, you name it. He'd been my uncle, the man to give me a home and a family after I was orphaned. He'd made sure that I was taken care of, that I was taught what I needed to know about magic and about life in general, though that was really Bob's doing. If Bob had been my mentor and friend, Justin had been a guardian who hadn't really cared that much. Or, if he had, he didn't know how to show it.
Even when I heard Justin talking to his doppleganger, I could tell the difference. There hadn't been much of one, sure, but my uncle hadn't wanted to kill me. It would've meant some poor innocent soul would've died instead, but Justin hadn't wanted to kill me.
And now he was dead dead. Gone in a flash of green light.
I shook my head. I'd been able to get over Justin's death the first time around by throwing myself into work and research. Maybe it was time to get back into the habit. With Bob around to help and remind me that I wasn't as much of an evil bastard as my uncle, it might even be a little easier to sweep under the rug and never think of again.
Yeah, and if I really believed that, I should start asking around to see if there were any bridges in Brooklyn that were on the market.
A knock on the door jerked me out of my thoughts, and after grabbing my staff, I headed toward the office-area of the downstairs. I'd flipped the sign earlier because today wasn't a day that I was going to trust myself around customers, let alone other people. But, sometimes, somebody was in trouble who needed my help, regardless of whether I was open for business or not. Bianca had been able to exploit my knee-jerk sense of chivalry before. Despite how much I wanted to brood in silence, said knee-jerk reflex was making itself known again.
When I saw who was standing outside, his face partially obscured by the lettering on the window pane, I stopped.
And then I jerked the door open. "Ebenezar?"
Ebenezar McCoy beamed at me, his teeth white in his tanned face. "Hoss." When I kept staring at him, both of his wispy white eyebrows rose. "You going to invite me in?"
I shook my head quickly and stepped back. "Sure, c'mon in." I leaned my staff against the brick beside the door and looked at him. He was still wearing his usual white T-shirt and overalls, though the shoes looked new. His balding head was, if anything, still just as bald, and his blue eyes twinkled as he looked around my office.
"Interesting place you got here," Ebenezar offered, looking back up at me with a teasing look.
"What're you doing in Chicago?" I blurted out. When I realized how it sounded, I winced.
"What, I ain't allowed to visit?" Ebenezar asked curiously. "I seem to recall you telling me that I was welcome anytime."
I shook my head. "It's not that, sir. It's just... you never leave your farm," I said lamely. "I mean, this is the first time you've ever actually taken me up on it. What's up? Is something wrong?"
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me. "There have to be something wrong for me to visit?"
I shook my head again, feeling stupid. "Sorry, sir. It's been... busy the last couple of days."
"You don't say?" he shot me a curious look. "Well, how about we move somewhere a little less like work?" He looked around the office. "It looks like this place would be enough to unsettle anybody's nerves."
"Cute, sir." I shot him a wry look, but led the way down the hallway to my living room. "Home sweet home," I said, waving a hand grandly at the couch, the rugs covering the floorspace, and the various knickknacks and the pinball machine that I had around the room.
"Well, no wonder you're tense, Hoss," Ebenezar grunted, looking around the room and eying one of the wall-hangings. "Not making enough to get an office somewhere else? Your threshold must be terrible."
"No, sir," I responded, not wanting to get into a conversation about my finances or my lack of them. "Can I get you something to drink? Beer, milk, water?"
"A beer sounds good right about now," he said, glancing at a few things on the mantel before noticing my dad's poster. "The Astounding Dresden?"
"Dad's act," I reminded him, fishing a beer out of the cabinet and heading back to him. We'd talked about my dad when I was younger, but that had been some time ago. Or, at least it felt like it.
"Kinda looks like a Picasso," he remarked. He took the beer I offered him and wedged off the top. "Thanks."
I nodded, looking back up at the poster. Before Murphy had given me the picture of me and my dad, it had been the only thing that I'd had of my father, and while it was a bit faded, it was still real, still there. "I think Dad designed it before I was born."
Ebenezar nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it looks like it's from the '60s." He drank a little from the bottle, and then made an appreciative noise, looking down at it and then up at me. "What's this?"
"You ever heard of Mac's?" I asked. "Small pub here in Chicago? It's one of his microbrews."
He took another sip. "Good food?"
"I try to go when I have the money," I said.
Ebenezar nodded, eying me. "We'll have to go sometime."
We stood in companionable silence for a minute, both of us looking at my dad's poster, and then Ebenezar looked at me curiously. "How's the business going?"
I shrugged. "The pay's not great sometimes, but the work... well, it's satisfying?" I shot him a smile. "Why? Looking to to hang up a shingle here in town?"
Ebenezar chuckled, shaking his head. "Lord, no. I like my privacy just fine, and I wouldn't get it if I had to check in at the office." He looked around. "Or work from home. Have any problems with intruders?"
I thought back to the skinwalker, Brady and Caleb, Sharon the Necromancer. "Some." I shrugged. Master of understatement, that's me.
Ebenezar looked surprised. "Don't take this the wrong way, but how is your house still standing, Hoss? I could probably break your threshold like a twig, since you work out of the same place you sleep, and the last I checked, you weren't all that up on the protection side of things."
"I said I was sorry," I said. I was still a bit sour over it.
"Setting up a simple ward, and you set my barn on fire." He grinned. "And the cat's still nowhere to be seen."
I sighed. "Sorry."
Ebenezar looked at me steadily, his grin diminishing. "It's all right. The new one's fireproof, and that's all I'll ever ask for."
I smiled a little. "The new cat?"
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me. "You're not as funny as you think you are, Hoss." Of course, he was smiling when he said it, so I took it with a grain of salt.
"Of course not, sir," I replied. "You wanna see the secret of my success at repelling home invasions?"
"This should be good."
"I like to think so, yes." I pointed at one of the support pillars, more specifically the sigils I'd painted on the wood. "Behold, the wards."
Ebenezar studied the sigils, his eyes following them down to the floor, and then up toward the ceiling, before looking back up at me. "This is pretty intricate stuff. I didn't think you knew half of what these did, let alone know what order to put them in."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Your confidence is overwhelming, sir. Better stop before my ego overinflates."
Ebenezar snorted, and looked at the sigils again. "If your threshold wasn't as bad as it was, these would actually do a lot better at keeping stuff out, Hoss."
Considering that almost all of the ward equations had been Bob's, I wasn't surprised. "Well, at least I know why Bob keeps harping about me renting some office space."
"Bob?" Ebenezar frowned, not recognizing the name.
"Remember when my uncle died?" I asked, surprised that my voice was as level as it was. "Five years ago?"
He nodded. "Heard you were brought before the Council. But what's that have to do with Bob?"
Bob chose that moment to walk through the wall-hanging that Ebenezar had been looking at earlier. "Harry, I think I've come across something--" When he saw Ebenezar, he stopped dead in his tracks (pardon the pun) and stared at him.
Ebenezar blinked, surprised by the sudden appearance. He looked at me and asked, "I take it this is Bob?"
It was strange to see Bob straighten his back and narrow his blue-green eyes until he looked like a different person altogether. "Why, Blackstaff McCoy, what an unexpected surprise," he murmured. It was very proper, very polite, and threatened violence. Ordinarily, that voice would get me going, but curiosity was outweighing long-familiar lust.
Ebenezar visibly tensed. "I hadn't realized Harry here had given you a nickname."
Bob had been surprised by the comment, but he didn't want to show it, and the only way I knew that was having known him for more than twenty years. "May I ask as to the nature of this visit?"
I looked between the two of them. "Hey, guys? I'm still here. What the hell is a Blackstaff?"
Bob turned to me, ignoring Ebenezar glaring at him. "The Blackstaff of the High Council is charged with the more... gruesome details of law enforcement among the magical community." He looked at Ebenezar, and almost seemed to be relishing the man's annoyance. "While not a Warden, he has carte blanche to break any of the laws of magic as he sees fit while in the course of fulfilling his duties."
"What, like Clive?" I asked.
Bob frowned, and then looked at Ebenezar, his expression one of polite curiosity. "I'm not sure what position Clive held within the Council before his death. I seem to recall that he told you that he retired. Perhaps you could enlighten us, Blackstaff?"
"I don't have to tell you anything," Ebenezar shot back at Bob. "And before he fills your head with anymore ideas about the position, it's not about being an assassin. You know that there's more out there than wizards, Harry. There's some groups that know about the laws that the Council's set up for itself, and there's some groups that wouldn't mind seeing it done away with entirely. Because they know about our laws, and what we do to those that break them, they could use our laws against us. And that's where the Blackstaff comes in."
"You tell me that you're not an assassin, but you go after the people who would try to use the Council's laws against them," I snorted.
"I don't kill people unless there's lives at stake," he growled. "Or inaction would mean more people would get hurt or killed. Jesus, I know you have a brain, Hoss. Try using it sometime."
I opened my mouth to say something, but then Bob moved forward, standing just a little in front of me. If I walked forward, my shoulder would end up passing through his.
"Perhaps, Blackstaff," Bob began in a silky voice, "you should state your business? Or are you the representative that the Council chose to send to investigate the matter?"
I had been about to say something, but that stopped me in my verbal tracks.
Ebenezar sighed through his nose. "I am."
"Bob?" I looked at him expectantly.
"The Council routinely sends a representative to investigate instances when the laws of magic have been broken. Considering that two have been broken in the past forty-eight hours, I was expecting someone to arrive fairly soon," Bob replied calmly, as if he weren't facing down Ebenezar and glaring at him like he could set the man's clothes on fire. "I must admit, I was expecting Morgan rather than the Blackstaff, so we might be in trouble." He glanced over his shoulder and shot me a look that told me to keep an eye on the exit.
I looked from Bob to Ebenezar. "Are you here to kill me?" I asked, sounding a lot more calm than I felt.
Ebenezar looked at me. "I'm just here to find out what happened. Since I know how you get into trouble, I thought you might know."
I noticed Bob twitch in surprise, but I kept my eyes on Ebenezar. "That's not all of it, is it?"
The older wizard smiled, but he didn't look amused. "If it weren't for Morgan's report, Mai would be stringing you up by the short hairs, Hoss."
I winced at the mental image. "That's not really news, sir. Are they screaming for my head?"
He shook his head. "No, but they want to know what happened, and they want to know five days ago."
"Would you settle for a Reader's Digest version?" I asked hopefully.
"Hoss," Ebenezar growled. "I don't answer to Mai specifically."
"I know," I said.
"So, don't you think that you can trust me?" he asked, sounding tired.
I stared at him for a long moment, meeting his gaze. We'd soulgazed a long time ago, a little while after we first met, so there was no worry of it happening again. We'd taken the measure of each other's souls, and I knew, deep down, that I could trust him. I just couldn't trust him with everything about my life. After years of me keeping secrets from him, it felt like a good time to let him in on one of them.
"Harry--" Bob said quickly, sounding worried.
"I'm fine, Bob," I told him. "Justin Morningway had a doppleganger made. He was responsible for stealing Bob from me, and then he gave Bob mortality in exchange for having the real Justin brought back to life."
Bob snorted. "He didn't have the doppleganger made, he created it himself," he muttered. "And while we're telling the Blackstaff all about the day we've had, I was the one who murdered the original Morningway using my lifeforce in order to ensure that Harry survived the ordeal." He glanced over his shoulder at me sourly. "Is there anything else we wish to tell him? The location of the family jewels, by any chance?"
"Already gave those to charity, Bob," I replied, giving Ebenezar a smile that said we argued like this all the time.
Ebenezar's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Hoss. It sounds like you're cooking up something to feed to the Council." From the way he was looking at me, it was like those times on his front porch when he conveniently forgot things. "How would you explain the Council not knowing that Justin had a doppleganger?"
"Creating dopplegangers aren't against any of the laws of magic," Bob cut in. "And the only reason the Council did not see fit to check if Morningway created one is because he had them so thoroughly convinced that he wasn't evil that they barely looked at his activities at all. If Morningway hadn't died five years ago, I shudder to think what state the High Council would be in now."
Ebenezar frowned at Bob, and then at me. "Does he ever shut up?"
"Not really," I replied honestly, "but I wouldn't have it any other way."
The older man blinked, and then looked at Bob curiously. "You brought Morningway back from the dead."
Bob stopped himself from saying something, and nodded curtly.
"And you killed him using your own lifeforce," Ebenezar continued.
"He'd used my lifeforce to bring Justin back," I said, "and then when Justin was busy monologuing, Bob got the drop on him, returned my lifeforce back to me, and then used the rest of his lifeforce to kill Justin for good."
"That sounded absolutely convoluted." Bob sighed.
"Thanks." I grinned. "So, at the end of the day, Bob's still dead. Even if you wanted to punish him for what he did, you can't because he's not alive anymore, and he's back in my possession."
"And what about you, Hoss?" Ebenezar asked, one white eyebrow lifting.
"What about me?" I frowned.
Bob sighed heavily. "As the owner of my skull, you could be punished for any misdeeds I might commit while under your care."
"But Justin's doppleganger had Tara steal you from me," I pointed out.
"Then the High Council could use that as proof of your unsuitability to watch over such a priceless artifact," Bob replied, sounding impatient. "Now, would you mind not asking anymore questions while the Blackstaff can hear us? I'd rather not give him anymore ideas on ways that this encounter could turn out."
"Bob," I said slowly. "Remember when I came home the first time, and I mentioned that I'd only met one wizard while I was traveling around the world?"
Bob frowned at me over his shoulder, the look on his face telling me he wasn't going to like what I was going to say.
I nodded at Ebenezar. "That's him. We've been friends for years -- we kept in touch. Now, if you don't mind, I highly doubt that Ebenezar's going to kill me and cover his tracks." I might have looked at Ebenezar pleadingly. "Right, sir?"
Ebenezar shook his head. "How the hell you get tangled up in these kinds of situations is really beyond me, Hoss."
"It's a gift?" I suggested.
"More like a curse," he snorted in reply.
"No," Bob said, and I could almost see him pursing his lips. "The boy's usually that foolish. Most of his trouble is of his own making."
Bob and Ebenezar traded smiles that spoke volumes about me before I added my two cents. "Now that everyone's convinced that there's not going to be any killing," I grumbled, "would you like a seat, Ebenezar?"
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me and shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm curious about the neighborhood, though. Let's walk."
Bob stiffened where he stood, and I shot Ebenezar a dark look. "Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of Bob."
Ebenezar sighed. "Harry, the Council's... concerned. I've heard of Bainbridge's reputation, and if I didn't know you, I'd be worried too."
"Reputation?" I prompted. I had a feeling I knew what this was going to sound like. Bob looked stony-faced as he watched Ebenezar.
"According to them, Bainbridge has a way of twisting his masters, turning them evil, sometimes even without them realizing it. Considering what's happened in the past couple of days, they're going to want to know that you're not a warlock."
"That is such bullshit," I snarled, feeling a surge of protectiveness rise up and want to fight back. This was Bob he was talking about, not some black artifact without a brain or a freaking soul. It took a bit of effort, but when I spoke again, I kept my mind on the facts instead of how much I wanted to shout that Bob was a good man, damn it. "Bob's skull was stolen from me. He was returned to mortality without my knowledge. Hell's bells, my own freaking uncle used Bob to try to kill me. Where, in all of that mess, am I going to have the time to suddenly turn evil?"
"Don't you think I don't know that, boy?" Ebenezar snapped. "The Council's not real well known for making well-thought-out decisions when it's scared. They think that you can turn evil at the drop of a hat, and while I think they're just blindly reacting to a perceived threat instead of thinking for themselves like they ought to, they're not going to listen to me."
"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?" I demanded. "How many times do I have to stand in front of the Merlin before he believes that I'm not out to kill everyone on the Council?"
"The Merlin's set in his ways, Hoss." Ebenezar shook his head. "And once you break a law, in his eyes, you're a law-breaker until you're dead."
"Great," I grumbled. "So, how am I supposed to prove I'm not evil?"
Ebenezar reached into a pocket of his overalls and withdrew a small, black pouch. "Hold out your hand."
I frowned at it. "What's in that?"
"Think of it as a detector," Ebenezar said with a smile. "Just hold out your hand."
I did as he told me, and a small, flat rock landed in my palm. It wasn't much larger than a Kennedy half-dollar, and my face was reflected back at me in its glossy black surface. "What is this thing?" I asked.
Bob, who'd been quiet for most of this, walked around until he was standing to my right, peering at the stone curiously. "My, my, I hadn't realized these were still in use." He glanced up at Ebenezar. "I thought the ward hounds were more reliable?"
Ebenezar snorted. "There's no way I would've been able to have an active ward hound following me around in the middle of Chicago. That's just crazy." He nodded at the rock in my hand. "That'll do just fine, and if the Council wants to raise a fuss, I'll deal with it."
"Okay," I said, looking at the rock. It didn't look any different. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Just hold onto it," Ebenezar said.
"Do I need to concentrate or anything?"
Ebenezar shook his head. "When it gets warm, let me know, and I'll take it back."
I was about to ask again what the hell I was holding onto, but Bob smiled. "Think of it as a magical version of a thermometer, Harry. It's older than the pendants and ward hounds, but it is still accurate to the same degree. It just takes longer to get the results."
"You're using a magical thermometer to see how evil I am?" I asked Ebenezar. "Why not one of those crystal pendants?"
"Those only check to see if there's dark magic at your chakra points. This--" Ebenezar nodded at the rock in my hand, "will stay keyed to you until someone else touches it." He held up the bag he'd carried the rock in, shaking it a little. "And I'm keeping it in here until I can show someone at the Council and be done with this foolishness."
"You don't think I've gone to the Dark Side?" I asked, trying to sound calm. From the look on Ebenezar's face, I didn't succeed too well.
"If you became a warlock, you wouldn't be working as a consultant for the Chicago police department," he grunted, shifting on from foot to foot out of habit. "You'd be doing something that made you quick money, or you'd be so far off the radar, nobody would be able to find you."
"Why do you say that?" I frowned, curious.
"Do you know how many times I had trouble keeping tabs on you while you were running around the world?" I must have looked surprised, because he chuckled. "Stars and stones, Hoss, you're Maggie's boy, and you don't think I'm going to keep tabs on you?" He shook his head. "We may've had a falling out when she was younger, but I think she would've wanted to make sure her boy was safe."
I knew when we'd first met that Ebenezar had known my mother. He'd said as much, but more than that, there were times when he would mention her fondly. Sometimes I asked about her, but most of the time, when he spoke about her, it was because of something I said or did that reminded him of her.
I shook my head. "I wasn't trying to hide."
"You must have one hell of a guardian angel, then," Ebenezar said. "But, that's really beside the point. I don't think you're evil, but the Council's not going to listen to me."
"Not even because you're the Blackstaff?" I asked.
Ebenezar shook his head. "It's not that great a position, Hoss. They treat me like anybody else not on the Senior Council, and the only perk is that I can do whatever it takes to save people, and not have to worry about the Council hounding me about it."
I frowned, looking back at the rock in my hand. "And they're going to believe this thing?"
"It hasn't been your friend for about ten years or so," Ebenezar pointed out. "I'm sure there's still going to be people who'll complain, but they're going to complain no matter what I do."
"How is this going to change things, then?" I asked. "Because something like breaking two laws in one day is probably the proof that anyone who hates me needs to execute me on the spot."
"It may not change anything with the ones that don't like you, but they'll be able to tell that none of the magic used at the morgue was yours."
"They can tell that?" I asked, surprised.
Ebenezar shrugged. "Magic has a way of etching itself in places, especially when it's powerful."
"And this rock?"
"It'll satisfy some questions people have." He glanced at the rock in my palm. "Looks about ready."
When I looked down, the rock had changed to a rosy red hue, a black symbol drawn on top that I didn't recognize. When I rolled it around my palm, it felt warm to the touch. "What's the symbol mean?"
Ebenezar frowned, looking at the symbol when I showed it to him. And after a moment, he shook his head. "I'm not sure, Hoss." He held open the small bag for me. I had a feeling he wasn't telling me the truth.
"If you knew, you wouldn't tell me, would you," I said, dropping the rock inside disgustedly.
Ebenezar raised an eyebrow at me. "If I find out anything about it, I'll let you know."
"Sure, Ebenezar," I grunted. "Do you need to do anything else with me? Maybe have me try on some thumbscrews?"
The older man sighed, looking disappointed. "No, I don't need to do anything else," he said evenly. "I think I've kept you long enough."
Glancing at Bob, I saw that he was just watching Ebenezar, so I nodded at the hallway back to the storefront. "Here, I'll walk you out." I paused for a moment, watching him and wondering what Bob had seen in his face.
Ebenezar nodded, and as he walked ahead of me, I realized that I had been treating him more like I'd treat someone that the Council sent. Knowing what I knew about the man, Ebenezar wasn't someone that went on errands, not unless he had his own reasons for doing them. There were a number of times that he could have sent me out to restock on farm supplies, but we'd gone together because we bonded in Home Depot over equipment and hardware. Sure, we had to steer clear of the newer gadgets to make sure they didn't start smoking while we were there, but it was still time we shared when we weren't actively working hard around the farm. Outside of evenings spent on the front porch, watching the fireflies come out, I liked the trips to Home Depot the best.
Not only that, but Ebenezar hadn't come in with his worn old wizard's staff. Had it been Morgan or Mai facing me down, interrogating me about what had happened, things probably would've been quicker, but they would've gone a lot worse for me and Bob. Ebenezar had saved both of us from a lot of tension and worry by coming here, no matter what Bob said about the Blackstaff being the more dangerous of the three options, and my guess was, the old man knew it.
As I opened the door for him, I cleared my throat. I don't do apologies that well, but I hoped this would work. "Um, Ebenezar?"
Ebenezar paused, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Keep my room open for me, will you?" I asked.
"Been thinking about taking a vacation from city life?" he asked, his voice warm. I felt better already.
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "It's crazy here, especially in the winter time."
Ebenezar smiled a little, and nodded. "Let me know when you want to drop by, and I'll make sure there's clean sheets waiting."
"I'd appreciate it, sir."
"Thought you might." Ebenezar nodded. "Later, Hoss."
"Later, sir."
I watched him step over the threshold, and then walk down the street to a familiar 1930's pick-up truck. Closing the door, I leaned my forehead against it and sighed heavily.
"Harry?" Bob asked.
"I'm all right," I said reflexively. I gave myself another moment or two before I locked the door again and made sure the sign still showed I was closed for the day. "That went well."
"Much better than it would have had Mai or Morgan been the one to pay us a visit," Bob agreed.
"Yeah, I kind of gathered that," I said. "Eb's a good man."
"Indeed," Bob remarked. "I may have been... a bit preemptive in informing you that he was the Blackstaff."
I frowned, surprised by the admission. "Oh?"
"Had I known you two were friends, I wouldn't have brought it up," Bob said, sounding almost peevish.
"Well, it's not like I told you about him before," I said. "Thanks for sticking up for me."
Bob cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes, well, you didn't need to be accused of things that you didn't do."
"You were risking a lot by telling him that you'd broken two laws of magic," I said slowly, watching him.
"You did point out that I hadn't profited from my crimes, since I'm still as dead as I was before my skull was stolen from you," Bob replied. "There would have been little that he could do to me directly."
"He could've hurt you," I murmured. "He knew who you were, after all."
Bob smiled a little, looking wry and defiant at the same time. I'm not sure how he does it, but I've always loved how expressive his face can be. "I believe the saying is 'no pain, no gain'?"
"And maybe I don't want to ever have to see you in that kind of pain," I told him.
Bob glanced down for a moment, not meeting my gaze. "You're a compassionate soul, Harry. I'm sure that if it were possible, you would have tried to save your uncle's life, despite all that he's done to you."
There're times when I'm able to know what Bob's thinking because I've just known him for that long, but I tend to forget it's a two-way street. "He was still my uncle, Bob," I said softly. "I would've wanted to see justice done, but I didn't want to be the one to kill him. It's a little too close to revenge that way."
Bob's eyes rose to meet mine again, and after a long moment of looking at me, he nodded like he'd just learned something about me. I've gotten used to those kinds of looks over the years, but they still surprise me when they happen. I tend to think that I'm not really that complicated, but then I see that look in Bob's eyes and I wonder just how much of a mystery I am to him.
"Bob, do you ever--" I stopped my mouth before I finished the question. Of course, Bob would never leave it like that.
"Do I ever?" Bob prompted gently.
"If you could choose, would you rather be at rest than the way you are now?" I asked lamely. It wasn't the original question I was going to ask, but it was another one that had been nagging at me from earlier.
Bob blinked, looking surprised before he frowned, mulling it over. "Perhaps? The limitations due to the curse have vexed me for centuries, and I'm never quite used to them, but... had I been allowed to rest, I would never have met you."
"So," I asked slowly, remembering what he'd told me when I was laying on a slab in the morgue, "it hasn't been hell, working with me?"
Bob's eyes narrowed before he realized what I was talking about. "I... won't pretend that everything has been roses, but... having known you, having passed on my years of experience to you, having seen you become the man you are today... This could never be Hell, Harry."
"What could be?" I asked softly. I have a bad habit of picking at scabs, and I knew that if I didn't get to the bottom of this, I was always going to wonder.
Bob watched me for a moment more before he looked away. "How many times have you gotten into trouble where you needed someone to watch out for you, someone who understood the world you live in and accepted it for what it is, not what it might be or what it should be?" He shook his head, his voice still soft as he spoke. "How many times have you walked out the front door, not knowing if you would return that evening? That is the hell I referred to."
I stared at him for a long moment before I cleared my throat. "Oh." What else could I have said? It's not everyday the object of my affections tells me that not being able to watch my back and worrying that I might not come home was his version of Hell.
"Oh, Harry," Bob murmured, shaking his head. "Sometimes you don't know your own worth."
"You know me," I said with a shrug, trying to cover up how embarrassed I felt. "Always ready to throw myself in harm's way."
"Yes, you do have a distressing tendency towards nearly getting yourself killed on a regular basis," Bob remarked dryly. "I would have regretted losing you."
There really wasn't much you could say to that. At least, something that wasn't smart-assed.
For a moment, Bob gave me a look that asked me not to push. That, as much as he was all that I had left in the world, I was all that he had too. Bob looked away for a moment, but I'd already seen it; I understood what he was telling me with his eyes that he wouldn't say out loud.
I'm not the only one who has trouble saying stuff out loud. Bob's just had more experience with not-talking than I do. He'd had just as bad a shock as I had. And he could probably use a little company. Or, you know, I could brood alone in the dark and pretend I was the only one who'd been hurt and scared. I could do that. Or...
"Hey, Bob?"
Bob's eyebrows rose, and I could see him mentally preparing to deflect a barrage of questions.
"You said that you thought you came across something earlier?" I asked, remembering when he'd walked into the room while I was talking to Ebenezar.
Bob blinked, and then nodded. "Yes, I was working on an old project of mine, and then I'd remembered you had been looking into modifying your shield bracelet to defend against a wider range of things that could attack you," he explained. "The equations should still be in the lab."
"Great," I said, heading down the hallway and placing one hand on the door to the lab. "Shall we?"
Bob smiled, a flash of crooked teeth making me smile a little myself. "Let's."
END
To start from the beginning, this way to Desperate Measures.
This way to the prequel, Vignette - The First Oath.
This way to the sequel, Vignette - The First Spring Cleaning
