Samuel
He groaned. It was the remains of his toiletry bag. Looking down the hallway, it was clear that was the least of it. The remains of his duffle bag were plastered on top of a set of lockers. They looked damp, and all of his clothing was scattered down the hallway in a long trail leading toward the bathroom.
Kids were fucking gross.
“It’ll be fine, they said…” he growled, bending to grab a pair of his briefs that were definitely soaked with something he hoped was water. “It’s been a decade. Things change, they said…”
He tossed his broken brush down the hall, hating that he’d have to buy a new one.
Lies.
Filthy, rotten lies, but he’d known that from the moment the nervous-looking social worker told him that he had to go to Frey Shores because of human laws about their kind.
If he ever saw that woman again…
He cradled his aching rib, kicking his things down the hall in long, wet, smelly streaks. His toothbrush and most of his toiletries were missing, broken, spilled, or otherwise made useless, but most of his clothes, including his three pairs of socks, were accounted for and soaked in not water. Some of it was in the bathroom. Nikolias jumped and swiped the remains of the duffle bag from where it had been thrown. He caught sight of his backpack, half opened, on top of an overhead light. He had nothing of monetary value. All the papers in the folders chronicled his life. There were a few keepsakes he'd managed to save before he was stuck on a plane and sent to Washington the day before.
The flight had been long from Hawai’i, and he hadn’t slept or eaten much of anything. His stomach growled, and he swooned from hunger before making a jump for the dangling strap of his backpack.
“Where the hell have you been?” A gruff voice growled down the hall. “You think I have time for you fucking around?”
Nikolias took a deep breath as his backpack slipped free, sending the rest of the pages cascading across the floor along with everything else that had been in the bag.
“I'm shocked you noticed I was missing,” Nikolias said, not looking at the man. “Though I guess I shouldn't be given the arrangement."
“You—”
“And I’ll live. A little banged up. Hot. Maybe a cracked rib, and all of my stuff is currently on the floor and filthy, but alive.”
Not that Samuel James Abraham gave a damn. A man with that many first names had no right to be so uptight and prejudiced. Nikolias gathered the pages carefully, ignoring the fact that his father's brother wasn't even pretending to help. Nikolias leaned against the lockers, leafing through his paperwork and accounting for all the pages before tucking them into his backpack.
“You’ll be fine. Probably knock the fag out of you.”
Nikolias took a deep breath again before looking at Samuel, searching for more than a surface resemblance to his father.
Nothing.
“Anytime you want to dissolve this arrangement, you can.”
He set his jaw. “Pick your shit up and hurry up about it. You’re going to have to learn to be a real man.”
“Like your sons?” Nikolias scoffed. “I’ll pass.”
“What did you just—”
“Junior and John stood by and watched a group of lycans not only punch me—hard— but put me in a locker and said nothing. Probably joined in destroying my stuff, too.” Nikolias gestured to the bag. “If that’s the standard of manhood you’re looking for, you might as well call up the social worker now.” Nikolias bent to stuff as much of his clothing into his backpack. “Or maybe try to be a decent police officer and ask if I'd like to press charges for assault and property damage?”
Samuel sneered. “You've got a big fucking mouth.”
“Offer’s still on the table.”
He wouldn’t take it. After all the trouble to bring him back to Frey Shores, Samuel wasn't going to back out. The first check hadn't even cleared, and it wouldn't if he knew his uncle well enough.
“Hurry up and get registered. If you aren't done when we're ready to go. I'll leave you here and you can walk back.”
Nikolias shook his head. “That’s cool. I'll hitch a ride with one of your colleagues.”
Samuel stomped off, cursing under his breath. His wife might be subservient, but she wouldn't let him leave Nikolias on campus. Appearances were important in Frey Shores, and she was actually a nice person. Her heart would break at the thought of him walking to their house on the human side of town. He took a trash bag from the bathroom and nudged all of his wet stuff inside, slinging the backpack on his shoulder, then headed in the direction he thought was the counselor’s office.
The druid woman at the receptionist's desk looked up. He bowed his head.
“Hello, elder.”
Her eyes softened, and she nodded at him. “Little Sapling…” She glanced at the trash bag and grimaced. “You… You must be Nikolias.”
He dropped his gaze and nodded, a wry chuckle escaping him. “My reputation precedes me.”
“You look just like her.”
His lips twitched. How many times had he heard that? He’d chaffed under it once, wanting to look more like his dad, wanting to look more typically masculine, but now… any resemblance to his parents was comforting. Besides, there was no sense in fighting it. He did look like her, from the shape of his nose, his mismatched eyes, and his curls that often looked like they’d lost three rounds with a blender.
“I hope you mean that in the most manly way possible.”
She laughed. “Of course. You're with Counselor Stryder. Head on in.”
Nikolias headed down the hall. She looked up as he entered and glanced at the trash bag in his arms.
“What’s that smell?”
“Me or the bag. Jackass lycan run in.”
“... would you like to press charges?”
“Yes, actually.” He closed the door behind him and bowed his head. “Thank you for your—”
“Knock it off. I've changed your diaper. Sit.”
He blinked and approached the chair. He did not remember Madam Tessa James Stryder ever changing his diaper, and he wasn’t sure that he actually wanted.
“You… knew my parents, too, then.”
“We all did,” she said, typing. “Farosi, witches, and druids are three peas in a pod, especially in Six Corners. You’ll see.”
He sank into the seat and groaned. A flick of her wrist sent a ripple of magic over him. She pursed her lips as a page of glyphs began to appear in the air. She opened her side drawer and rummaged around.
“We were all… aggrieved when you all left, though we understood. Shall we get the condolences out of the way now, or later?”
His lips twitched. “Now, I guess.”
She eyed him. “Blah, blah. Sorry for your loss.” He chuckled. “Blah, they were great people.” She stilled. Her eyes grew glossy, meeting his gaze. “They were the best of us, and you deserve better than this…. We will look after you. You have my word.”