Super Special Ep: Everything Possible
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
The night outside is quiet and dark, the rain whispering against the plants in the old garden. The one window always left open for the tree branch threatens to let in the rain with this much gusting wind, but the droplets sizzle up against an invisible barrier of heat, soundlessly dissolve into steam, and melt away to rejoin the storm.
It’s dark out there, and cold.
By comparison, the house, the bedroom, the bed… it’s all an oasis of warmth and comfort. The flames are burning low in the little corner stove, making soft fire-snaps when the breeze gusts in, casting its rich, shadowy light across the room. The lamps are all switched off, but a few golden fireflies hang in the air, adding a little to the fireglow.
The dry warmth of the fire is just winning out over the rain-cooled breeze to give the room a gentle, toasty warmth. Luna is curled up like a donut at the end of the bed, her fur sticking up at silly angles after the very lazy bath she gave herself. Jumble has been doing a lot of restless fluttering around lately, but right now he’s roosting quietly in his box, his little head sunken deep into his downy feathers.
Jamie is asleep, on his side, with one hand curled beneath his cheek. And Aiden is awake, just looking at him.
Are things different tonight? Aiden wonders.
The rainy air tastes so good. So sweet and clear, and full of the perfume of the garden. It’s like the bed is cozier than it’s ever been, too. May as well be fur-lined. The rough tangle of noise that’s always in Aiden’s head is very quiet, softened almost completely into the white noise of the rain. Only one little voice is still brightly singing to him, soaring high above all the rest.
Aiden still stands in secret awe of that sound. Jamie’s song, the music his and Aiden’s notes make together - it has no equal, not to Aiden’s mind. The resonant, beautiful hum sends goosebumps spilling down his arms, makes his heart stand still in breathless wonder.
Aiden can understand more and more of the subtleties in Jamie’s note the longer he goes on hearing it. He’s starting to wonder if he can ever understand it completely, or if it’s a universe of its own, too big to ever explore in one lifetime. Something tells him it’s probably the second of the two possibilities.
Something also tells him the bed is just as soft as normal, the summer air the same it would be on any other night. It’s only the pure, radiant relief of having Jamie safe and whole again that’s making everything feel different.
Aiden’s eyes drift slowly, lovingly over his sleepy angel. He beckons for the closest fireflies, and they sink down to gently shed their light on Jamie’s face.
Aiden lays there quietly taking in the sight of his Companion Plant. His lithe, graceful beauty. His eyes, shaped for laughing even when they’re closed. His delicate, freckled skin glowing in the moonlight, ready to pick up a fiery blush at the first hint of any emotion at all. His soft, flaming red hair, tumbling down over his temple.
He’s beautiful asleep, but Aiden has to resist the urge to wake him up. Hear him talk about anything at all. Prove one more time that he’s okay, and that he has all his memories back.
It wasn’t their relationship that Aiden was afraid for, when Jamie couldn’t remember anything. If Aiden hadn’t been able to restore his memories, and he didn’t believe that they were already together, Aiden would have done everything to get him back. Even if it meant starting from scratch, even if it took weeks or months or years.
It was losing everything they’d created between them that Aiden was afraid of.
The nights spent cozied up on the couch, or wandering through the peach orchards. Aiden cracking his back laughing so hard at Jamie’s commentary during football games. Jamie coming in from the rainy garden with big, wet armfuls of flowers for all the vases. Aiden getting to sit on the bed and watch as Jamie gets undressed at the end of every night.
Jamie coming out of the garden to meet Aiden on his way back from his run. How does he always know when Aiden is almost home? Aiden has no idea, but there he always is, eagerly walking to meet him, stuffing his gardening gloves into the back pocket of his jeans.
Hi, you! he usually calls, and it’s adorable every single time he says it, because Aiden can see how obviously happy he is to have him home.
That’s what really scared the hell out of Aiden. Losing hold of that. The life they’ve built together, on the history of everything that’s happened between them. Aiden never totally realized it, but his and Jamie’s history has become unbelievably precious to him. Every second of it, even the parts that are too terribly bad for him to think about.
Because all of it led them here. For that, it all means everything to Aiden. To think that Jamie had lost it all… that hit Aiden like a hollow-point to the heart.
But no, it didn’t end that way. Because somehow, even with no way of knowing he should, Jamie trusted Aiden. Trusted him enough to let the connection open, which is - seriously, it’s un-fucking-believable. Clearly Jamie doesn’t even have the slightest idea of just how staggering that is.
Aiden catches his lip between his teeth, struggling against the onrushing sweep of white-hot love taking him over. It’s almost too much to bear.
He drags his gaze away from Jamie, but Jamie has some intrinsic way of filling up the whole room for him. This right here is exactly why Aiden felt the need to be so mean to him in high school. Just having him in the same room totally overpowered mere denial and suppression, two things Aiden was relying pretty heavily on at the time, and which generally speaking he found pretty effective against everything else.
Jamie was the one exception, just like he always is.
Aiden takes a deep breath, pulls himself together, then slowly lets his gaze travel back to his Linden.
He remembers what a happy mess he was, that first week of being with Jamie. The wild joy and delight and disbelief in his heart had him getting on the wrong buses, stopping in the middle of archiving to smile happily at the wall, walking right past Kent’s house on the way home. Forgetting that people were talking to him mid-conversation, unless it was Jamie doing the talking. He was blissfully checked out from reality, wandering down linden lanes in his mind.
He’s been walking around in a daze tonight, too. Pure relief completely scattered all of his thoughts for a while, ever since Jamie said the words Sugar Maple. Now, though, he’s thinking.
Not that what happened is easy to think about. Aiden wants to curl up in shame and misery every time he remembers how everything went down in the forest. Not only did he fuck up, he fucked up the way a five-year-old would. He just froze in fear and stood there and let Jamie get hit right in the chest with unknown magic. That shit is unforgivable by any standards Aiden has for himself, but especially as a Guardian, for fuck’s sake…
He can almost hear what Jamie’s argument would be against that.
You fixed everything afterwards with your magic, though! You did memory magic!
Yeah, and upon some further reflection Aiden supposes that's much more complicated than just throwing up a heat barrier or whatever in time to stop an attack from the Witch. He was able to find the magic that didn’t belong and pull it away without hurting Jamie’s energy. All in a few frantic seconds, too. That does feel pretty good, Aiden can’t deny that.
Doesn’t matter, though. Nothing makes up for the sight of Jamie’s motionless body collapsing on the top of that muddy hill. God, and the way he looked in the bed afterwards, pale, unmoving, barely breathing, like someone asleep at the bottom of a frozen lake. Aiden completely understands why Noah took one look at him and went staggering back out into the hallway, his grey eyes blinking like something burned them.
Jamie did that, put himself in that condition, all to save Aiden.
Aiden rolls flat onto his back, blinking hard, breathing with difficulty around the knot in his throat. Sweet angels like Jamie should be protected. Aiden is supposed to protect everybody, but he especially wanted to protect him. Instead it’s been the other way around, too many damn times.
He lets out a heavy sigh, then lifts his hands and looks at them. Wishing for the millionth time that he was a better Guardian.
Although…
Jamie seems to think Aiden is a much better Guardian than he gives himself credit for. That he has the potential to be way better, too.
No matter how deeply and convincingly Jamie seems to believe what he says - and does he ever, he always says it like he’s simply telling a fact - Aiden always secretly wondered if Jamie said all that just to encourage him.
But Jamie just took his life in his hands on that belief. He means it.
Aiden sits up in bed, loosely rests his elbows on his knees, and looks down at Jamie, his eyebrows furrowed.
He’s always thought that there was nothing he couldn’t do for Jamie, and Jamie believes that Aiden is going to be a powerful Guardian someday. So couldn’t Aiden make that happen, for him?
When the fuck did Aiden decide he couldn’t, anyways?
Like ships coming in through the fog, distant memories that Aiden hasn’t touched in years slowly pull through into clarity. A memory stirs in his mind, of a cold, quiet winter morning at Aunt Sarah’s house. He was curled up beneath the blankets on his bed, staring out of the open window at the strawberry-colored dawn light starting to come up over the treetops.
While he was looking that way, his aunt had slipped into the room. He felt her lean over him before he heard her, smelled the rose and chai fragrance of the tea she’d already made that morning.
She climbed into the bed beside him, then drew him gently back into her arms.
“Are you awake, Aiden?” she whispered softly.
“Go away, Auntie,” he protested sleepily, pushing her away.
“Oh, come on, there’s room for me,” she whispered teasingly, folding him into her embrace.
Aiden made a frustrated face at her, which made her let out a little laugh. He instantly felt better, hearing her laugh. She’d been so worried all the time, arguing a lot with his mom. He was also relieved because he was worried that she might be mad at him.
“Auntie,” he murmured, rolling over to snuggle up with her. “I’m sorry.”
He meant about the day before, and she understood that without him saying it.
She needed to get something taken care of at the bank. She was late getting there. She hadn’t been expecting Aiden’s mom to call and ask her to watch him again, presumably, given he’d already stayed over two other nights that week. But she made a detour to pick him up, and as a result they got to the bank right as it was closing.
The bank manager had leaned out of the door to talk to Aunt Sarah, and Aiden, who was bored waiting around, started kicking his soccer ball against the wall of the bank for practice. He did it neatly a few times, but it got away from him off of an awkward kick. Smashed right into an outdoor table at the cafe next to the bank.
A waiter came over to yell at Aunt Sarah, who made Aiden apologize, then took him back to the car, the last of her patience worn out.
“Aiden!” she’d almost wailed, in a thin, strained voice. “I told you to stop doing that three times before the ball hit the table! Why did you ignore me?”
“I didn’t hear you,” he’d answered, in tears of dismay at having made her so upset.
Aunt Sarah heard it in his voice, and seemed startled by his answer. She pushed her dark gold hair back with a trembling hand, then silently reached into the backseat to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. She also let him have some pistachio ice cream when they got home, and he was hoping that meant she wasn’t actually too angry with him, but he was worried about it.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured, when he apologized that morning in his bedroom. “That’s actually why I’m awake this early, I couldn’t - I don’t want you to think I’m upset with you about what happened yesterday. It was just a misunderstanding, alright? If you really couldn’t hear me-”
“I couldn’t!” he insisted, hit with a sudden burst of tear-inducing frustration.
“Okay,” she said quickly, giving him a squeeze. “It’s okay. I believe you, and I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t realize you couldn’t hear me. It was quiet on that street, and sometimes I forget how loud it must be for you… but I’m trying, honey, I - I’m trying to understand.”
Aiden bit his lip, trying not to cry. His aunt could tell, and she drew back to gently poke his ribs.
“What’s wrong, Aiden?”
“Just - nobody ever will.”
“Will what?”
“Understand. What it’s - like.”
His aunt had paused for a long, long time before she answered, in a carefully composed voice.
“I know it must be hard to be a Guardian, sweetheart. And you’re right, it means that sometimes you’ll feel a little bit - apart from everyone else. But it’s because you’ve been entrusted with something very special. Something so rare and precious that no one can even know about it.” She sat up and sat him up, too. Drew his legs over her lap, hugged him close to her, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You’ll use it to make all their lives better, even if they don’t know it. You’re part of a hidden history that goes back generations and generations. You have to learn, first, but one day you’ll play your part in that history, too.”
Strangely enough Aiden remembers running outside with his soccer ball after that talk feeling full of pride and excitement. Two things he definitely doesn’t associate with being a Guardian now, and hasn’t for as long as he can remember.
Well. Almost as long as he can remember. Now he remembers that one time, and more long-forgotten memories are quickly beginning to take vague shape in his mind. Memories of the first few times he intentionally used his magic.
Before the stressful lessons began with his mom, Aiden used to sneak out to secretly attempt some magic. He forgot about that completely, but now he remembers with a jolt of disbelief. He’d sneak down to the creek behind Aunt Sarah’s house and try some playful, pointless little things out. Spin little lights, let the magic play.
It all comes rushing back to him. The first, awakening stirring of exhilaration at summoning up his power. Calling on it to shine around his fingers, feeling it flex and move with him.
Aiden could have sworn that back then the magic felt like wings, perfectly intuitive, an extension of himself. It felt good to use it, like that was how everything should be. His mom told him never to try anything without her, but he doesn’t remember being afraid of what might happen, not back then. Using magic was natural to him, as natural and thoughtless as using his hands. His body seemed to just know what to do.
He remembers that feeling, and he remembers… that it used to fill him with hope. Hope that maybe he had a real talent for this. That maybe one day he could do amazing things with it.
Aiden gazes up at the ceiling in silent, dumbstruck amazement.
He can hardly believe it, but there was once a version of Aiden who was itching to distinguish himself as an exceptional Guardian. He’s so far in the past now that Aiden forgot he ever existed, but he did. A dreamy-eyed little boy who stayed up late looking at the stars through his window, swearing to himself that one day he would be good enough to protect all of Ketterbridge from anything. He wanted that and more. He was aching to make some significant mark on the hidden history. He wanted to make the Guardians who came after him remember him, and make the ones who came before him proud.
If it meant he had to be a little apart from everyone around him, that was okay. They’d all be safe, that was what mattered. And Aiden would know that he was among the best of his kind, quietly keeping them all under his unseen protection.
So - when did that hope completely go out in him? When did Aiden decide that he was only ever going to be sort of good at magic? Like - this is the best he can do, or something?
Jamie doesn’t think this is the best Aiden can do. He thinks Aiden is capable of a lot more, of anything. He’s sure as hell made that known, in a thousand different ways.
Aiden stares at his Companion Plant, lost in thought.
True, he spent a lot of time cut off from his powers. Barely touched them for eight years, wasn’t exactly practicing with them before that. But practicing does make a difference.
When Aiden first got home and started using his powers again, expending even a little magic could drain his supply and knock him out to recharge. Since then he’s been able to pull off bigger and bigger things before he runs out. That’s how he went from getting knocked out by closing a bunch of doors at the Bratton Collection to being able to flash-melt a huge section of the river without a total collapse.
The well feels deeper, if not completely inexhaustible like Aiden remembers it being when he was a kid. From practice? From calling on his powers more often? From using them more intuitively, understanding them more? Is it not about deepening the well, but learning how to reach deeper down?
Could be. After all, it’s not like Aiden had more power as a kid than he does now. If anything, he should have had less back then. His power grew with him. It was only that he never used to fight with the magic. He didn’t have to try to control it. They always moved together, as one.
That was a long time ago, though. Before Aiden spent years ignoring all of his Guardian abilities and smothering all of his Guardian instincts.
He breathes out a sigh of self-directed frustration.
He supposes it’s not totally his fault that he fell out of stride with his powers. His mom wasn’t there to even tell him which instincts were Guardian instincts and which ones were normal to a human boy. Aiden always wondered, for example, about the roaring in his ears that happened every time he saw Jamie flirt with another guy in high school. In retrospect that probably wasn’t Guardian related, but he had to figure that out all on his own.
So what? insists some voice from within him. Okay, so no one taught you anything. Doesn’t mean you can’t learn. You can get better at magic, and that means being better at protecting Jamie. It means not freezing up, next time.
Means you can keep Jamie safe. This is how you keep him safe.
Knowing how damn stubborn Jamie is, it’s also probably the only way to prevent him from leaping headfirst into danger to protect Aiden again. Make sure he doesn’t have to in the first place, because Aiden was good enough to look out for himself. At least most of the time, like, come on.
Aiden is painfully aware of his own shortcomings, especially right now, but… he’s a worker of fate magic. So why would he decide it’s written in fate that he’s never going to be any better than okay, never going to become the Guardian Jamie sees in him?
Maybe there still is some part of Aiden that very quietly believed he could be better than this. After all, he was hoping he’d get a chance to show off a little for Jamie while the Ghost Office handles the case of the forest illusions. Maybe find a good opportunity to do some pretty magic, with sparks and lights thrown in.
Nothing has come of that hope so far. In fact, Aiden thinks gloomily, what happened was as unimpressive as possible. But the point is that he had hoped for that chance to look good in front of Jamie. He hoped he would surprise himself and Jamie both, in spite of everything. He thought there was some chance of that, deep down.
Didn’t work out, but previous fuckups aside… who says Aiden can’t be a better worker of magic than he has been? If he practices more, tries harder? Who says he can’t be good, like, really good? Who the fuck says he can’t?
It’s in his hands, isn’t it?
Aiden spreads his hands and looks down at them. Strange… he can almost feel his power burning beneath the surface, swirling excitedly, like it senses him thinking this way. He closes his eyes, leaning into the feeling.
Off in the distance, he slowly becomes aware of his Guardian Tree. He feels it breathing, feels the night air stirring against its leaves, the safety of the soil at its roots. The unbreakable link between himself and the Tree feels brightly clear to Aiden, easily traceable.
He senses something to his side, too. The malachite cutting in the little jar on Jamie’s necklace. The magic of the tiny plant glitters in Aiden’s awareness, registering like a sensory impression even though his eyes are closed and he didn’t touch it. He can feel the ruby tree, too, and the malachite tree out in the garden.
Aiden takes a sharp breath. He’s startled to find himself so in tune with his powers, so keenly aware of the magic in the room. He balls up his hands and feels the magic flex within them, waiting eagerly at his fingertips. Since when does it feel like that? It hasn’t in forever, not since he was a kid…
Aiden opens his eyes, his gaze going right back to Jamie’s face.
It strikes Aiden like a lightning bolt. He never would have thought of any of this if it wasn’t for Jamie. Aiden didn’t even remember what he’d hoped for once, back when he was a kid. He’d forgotten about it so completely that he never even noticed he’d given up.
Jamie made him realize. Makes sense. This wouldn’t be the first time that Jamie took something Aiden thought was certain and inevitable, and pulled that belief up from the roots. Without even meaning to.
Unable to resist, Aiden gratefully pulls his Linden into his arms.
Jamie snuggles up against his chest, revealing that he wasn’t asleep after all. His note just sounded so immensely peaceful that Aiden couldn’t tell the difference. Full of surprises, this one.
“You’re up?” Aiden whispers, as Jamie folds an arm around him.
“Mhm. Can’t fall all the way asleep. Thinking.”
Aiden savors the low, drowsy warmth of his voice. He runs a hand through his red hair, then pauses when Jamie murmurs -
“Why didn’t you just tell me that I’m your boyfriend right away, when I asked about it? When I couldn’t remember?”
Aiden blushes, thankful that Jamie can’t see his face from this angle.
“I don’t know, man! You were making me nervous, I - I guess I panicked a little when you asked me what was going on between us, and then I felt like I’d missed my window to tell you without the whole thing seeming weird. It was before I knew you were gonna jump me after one kiss, Little Demon!”
He feels Jamie smiling affectionately against his chest.
“Ugh,” Aiden groans softly, screwing up his face in dismay. “Was actually really hoping you wouldn’t remember seeing me crying my eyes out and having a total meltdown right in front of you.”
Jamie draws back to look up at Aiden, the moonlight glimmering in his amber eyes.
“I saw you hurting,” he murmurs, gently stroking Aiden’s beard. “There’s no shame in hurting. Why would there be, especially right after something painful happens?”
Aiden stares back at him, burningly grateful for that sweet, spontaneous kindness that comes so naturally to Jamie. He has this way of gently easing the anxiety of Aiden’s tangled thoughts and feelings, like working out a knot in a muscle. He always hits the spot just right.
“Speaking of hurting,” Jamie murmurs, around a little yawn. “Why does my cheek hurt? Did I hit it on something?”
“Your cheek?” Aiden blinks in surprise, then gently takes Jamie’s jaw in his hand so he can look at it. “No, I swear you didn’t hit it on anything. It hurts?”
“Not exactly, it just feels a little - hot, or tender, or something? Maybe I slept on it weird. It’s okay, though, it’s really not too bad.”
Aiden isn’t sure what to make of that, but a solution does come to mind. He hesitates, then cradles Jamie’s cheek in his hand. He draws very gently on the magic waiting in his fingertips, summons the extra heat to himself, and lets it drift away on the breeze.
Jamie’s eyes flutter closed at the unexpected sensation, then flutter right back open to stare at Aiden in surprise. He puts his own fingertips to his cooled-off cheek and stares into Aiden’s shining blue eyes, his eyes reflecting the glow like multifaceted, honey-colored jewels.
Here’s where Aiden always starts to have too many feelings at once. When Jamie looks at him like this, his sweet amber eyes wide with wonder and love, and bright, unwavering faith.
“That’s like the fourth piece of magic you’ve done today without thinking about it,” Jamie says softly.
“Because I’m gonna get better,” Aiden answers firmly, pushing Jamie’s hair back from his face. “No more freezing up. I’m done with that. Next time we face the Witch I’m gonna be ready.”
“Mhm?” Jamie waits expectantly, then blinks in confusion. “Oh. Sorry, I thought there was more. Yeah, I knew that already. I mean - of course you will. I’m actually kind of excited to see what you do.”
Aiden stares at him, then slowly shakes his head in amazement.
His heart is on fire with love, and with… hope? Determination? Some feeling that’s telling him, yeah, you can be the Guardian that Jamie sees in you. You can do that.
Aiden wants to do that. So so bad. He wants more of the bright, shining pride that was glowing in Jamie’s eyes after he pulled off the memory magic. More of that feeling. More of that particular smile on Jamie’s face. When Jamie looks at him this way the determination in him burns so hot he could burst into flames.
New, fierce resolve takes up a permanent place in Aiden’s heart.
Besides, sooner or later he’s got to start thinking about his kid, right? Aiden wants the Guardian he raises to look up to him, be proud of him. Aiden wants that little Guardian to keep the pride and excitement he had about this when he was little. Not lose it, the way he did.
Jamie will be a big help with that, Aiden thinks peacefully, then gives a little start, realizing how far ahead of himself he’s getting.
So easy to let his guard down, around Jamie. So easy to forget to worry, even though the little spitfire is so goddamn unpredictable as to jump out in front of a witch without warning, and flat-out refuse to say he won’t do it again.
Aiden realizes abruptly that he’s gone silent for a long time. Jamie is gazing up at him, waiting it out patiently, like always. Aiden gratefully nuzzles his nose into Jamie’s freckled one, taking him by his hip.
Did you know, he asks Jamie, through the open connection, That you make me want to be a better man, and a better Guardian, and a better Heliomancer?
Do I? Jamie’s soft, confused laughter and deep blush reach Aiden through the connection. But that doesn’t make any sense. I already think you’re perfect.
Aiden closes his eyes, trying to get a grip on himself. His mind comes back to the question he’s been putting off asking, because he’s not sure how to.
Jamie, he murmurs, hesitating over his words. The way you trusted me, like - right away, even when you didn’t remember who I am, or - what we have…?
He trails off, not sure exactly what he’s asking.
Jamie lays flat on his back, gazing up at Aiden with thoughtful, baffled eyes.
“Yeah, I…” he says slowly. “I wish I could explain it, but it’s just - I felt - something, as soon as I saw you, I just knew - I don’t know how, but I knew...”
He trails off, too, at a loss to explain himself.
Aiden screws his face up, trying to control the wild beating of his heart, then lets out a little whimper when he can’t do it. Jamie starts to look up at him in concern, then laughs when Aiden flattens him to the bed, painting kisses all up and down the side of his neck.
“Aiden!” Jamie lets out a gasp of ticklish laughter, trying to push his face away. “You - huge - dummy-”
He stops as Aiden helplessly buries his face into his neck, holding him close. Jamie closes his arms around Aiden, smiling to himself. Aiden can’t see it, but he can hear it in his note.
Just like he could hear the total confusion in Jamie’s voice when he was trying to explain the way he reacted to meeting Aiden when he didn’t have his memories. Sounds like that’s what he was up thinking about, actually.
Aiden gently kisses the top of Jamie’s head. “Don’t worry about it, then. So long as I’m the only one who would get that response from you.”
A little laugh breaks from Jamie. “Are you kidding? Obviously it would only ever be like that with you.”
Once again, Aiden is glad that Jamie can’t see his expression. Or hear his note, for that matter, because he couldn’t have missed the blissful little stumble it just did.
“Babe,” Jamie murmurs suddenly, like something just occurred to him. “Did you put out the offering for the spirit tonight?”
“Mmm… no, I’m sorry, I forgot.” Aiden pulls Jamie closer, stealing a swift little touch of his red stubble beard. “Whatever, though. We can miss one night. Not like we’ve had any takers, anyways.”
“No, no, I think we have!” Jamie protests sleepily. “I meant to tell you, I saw something near the bowl earlier! I don’t think we should miss a night.”
“Nothing’s been drinking from that bowl. You’re all mixed up, Linden. It’s been a rough time.”
“I saw it, dude,” Jamie insists, around another deep yawn. “Or not it. Just something moving. Might’ve been a chipmunk, I guess. But I know I saw something. Just in case, I really think we should.”
Aiden considers for a moment. He really doesn’t want to let Jamie go, not even for a second. He’s also fairly sure that they’ve accomplished nothing with this venture besides wasting a bit of buttermilk and possibly drawing in a few unfortunate bugs for Luna to brutally hunt down.
But he presses a kiss onto Jamie’s temple, then slips out of bed, finds some sweatpants, and heads downstairs. He sleepily turns on the light in the kitchen, debating just putting the buttermilk out cold instead of warming it up and adding spices like he has been. It’s late, and he’s tired, and it probably makes no difference.
He knows what Jamie would think, though, so he begrudgingly turns on the stove and takes down a pot.
He takes a look at the contents of the old bowl before he pours it out. It doesn’t seem like any buttermilk is missing from what they’d left out before. If the spirit did sample the contents of the bowl, it must’ve been taking tiny little sips.
“Did you do it?” Jamie sighs sleepily, rolling over when he feels Aiden climb back into bed a few minutes later.
“Mhm. No sign that anything was there, though.”
“Just trust me,” Jamie murmurs, cozying back up into Aiden’s arms.
“Believe me, I do.” Aiden kisses Jamie’s cheek, hearing in his note that he’s finally dropping off to sleep. “You have no idea how much.”
He pauses, then adds - “Did I ever thank you for saving me from the Witch, by the way? Or did I just yell at you about it?”
Jamie smiles, letting out a peaceful sigh. “You just yelled at me about it. It’s okay, though, I know what you meant…”
His slow, mumbled words trail off, but the smile lingers on his face even when Aiden hears his note settle down into its sleeping rhythm.
Aiden’s curls around it in soft, protective harmony, as if their two notes are snuggling up together for the night. He listens to their song, closing his eyes in peaceful bliss.
After a long, thoughtful moment he sits up, crossing his legs. He closes his eyes, shuts out everything else, and lapses back into his magical senses. Just for good measure he takes Jamie’s hand and gently eases open the connection. It works even with Jamie asleep, Aiden notes fondly.
He breathes in and out slowly, forcing himself to let go of all the half-forgotten lessons from his mom he always automatically tries to apply. He was better at this before those, those only get in the way. It’s like pulling up to an intersection with too many lights and signs, and you can’t quite remember how to read any of them, and anyway you’re not totally sure they’re telling you the right things, the signs were written by people trying to remember stuff that other people told them, and they’ve led you wrong before…
He lets them lapse away, pushes them into a corner of his mind where he won’t have to think about them. He tries his hardest to think of nothing at all.
The room is silent around him, aside from the whispering rain and Jamie’s quiet breathing. The soul-note noise is far away and quiet, aside from Jamie’s gentle song.
Aiden reaches for his magic without trying, and it springs up almost eagerly to his fingertips. Without giving himself time to think, he opens his hand and lets it out.
A shining burst of prismatic golden light explodes from his palm, throwing its glow all the way up to the ceiling like a radiant sunbeam.
Aiden gasps, closes his hand, and holds perfectly still for a second. His closed fist is shining, golden brightness spilling out between his fingers, but the light didn’t wake up Jamie.
Aiden hesitates uncertainly, then carefully opens his hand.
The beam of light strikes the ceiling again, collapses, and showers down, spilling out from Aiden’s upturned palm like streaming waterfalls rushing into zero gravity. Glittering and shining, like stardust was flung into the mix.
This looks nothing like the weak, muffled light that Aiden was making when he first started practicing again. It doesn’t even look like the Heliomancer light he could’ve made this morning. This looks more like the natural magic that Aiden throws off by accident when his emotions overwhelm him. The kind he usually has to struggle to keep inside.
That type of magic tends to escape in sudden explosions or miniature snaps of lightning. Aiden doesn’t usually get to see it released slowly and intentionally like this. The radiant glow fills up the whole bedroom, like a miniature, golden version of the Milky Way.
Aiden experimentally calls his magic back into line. It snaps into a single, soft, winding ribbon of golden light. When Aiden calls it again it drops down to weave through his fingers, waiting for instructions.
Aiden doesn’t really have any, so he directs it towards Jamie, envisioning it playfully touching his cheek.
The magic lands on Jamie’s arm with something like a little splash, then bursts apart into a tumble of golden, fluttering wings like tiny butterflies, which rush up to kiss his freckled cheek. Jamie crinkles his nose up in his sleep, brushing it away.
The magic scatters at Jamie’s hand trying to push it back, then reforms to nuzzle affectionately up against him. Aiden blushes a little - he didn’t tell it to do that. His emotions must be tuned very tightly to his magic right now. He sternly calls the magic back in, then spreads his hands incredulously when it ignores him, winding adoringly around Jamie like a giant cat.
Alright, well, if it wants to do something with Jamie… Aiden thinks for a long moment before his mind lands on an idea. Something his favorite poet wrote. It would be a better way of thanking Jamie for what he did, for the trust he put in Aiden. It would show him how Aiden really feels about it, but Aiden isn’t sure it’s possible.
Could he send thousands of kisses to shower down on Jamie in his dreams? Is that something within the power of his magic?
The instant the thought crosses his mind, the magic shining around Jamie sinks into his sleeping body in one swift, eager rush. Like it was only waiting for the go-ahead.
But don’t wake him up! Aiden hastily adds to the end of his accidental instructions.
Jamie makes a soft sound in his sleep. His red eyebrows furrow, like he’s confused. He takes a deep, slow, shuddering breath, then rolls onto his back.
A slow, disbelieving smile of pure elation lights up his sleeping face. He laughs softly in his sleep, curling his shoulder up and letting his head fall to one side. A deep blush colors up his freckled cheeks, which are rounded out with that blissful smile.
Aiden watches him with adoring eyes, then catches his lip between his teeth, listening.
Jamie’s note lifts in a sweep of sweet happiness. Aiden’s instinctively, eagerly leaps after it, following its beautiful, wild ascent. Their notes fly and soar together, weaving around each other, effortlessly spilling off music.
Aiden closes his eyes, swimming in happiness. The miracle is happening again, that sound, their song. Aiden really could let go of all earthly confines and just listen to it forever.
He curls protectively around Jamie, presses a kiss onto his temple.
I can do it, he promises silently. I can be better. I can keep you safe. I will.
Aiden wants to hear the music of their spirits playing together forever. He’s going to do everything, everything possible to make that happen.
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