R&R

Blue eyes snapped open wide. Body tense, Jean's fingers gripped the sheet atop him with a grasp tight enough that could have snapped metal. A panic initially rose within him, but he relaxed when the familiar sounds and scents registered in his consciousness. With a deep exhale, he completely relaxed and let his eyes close.

He was home in the Cellar's infirmary.

From what he could sense, all seemed well; he heard Verne in his office, papers shuffling, and several of his men were in the main room with the television on. Beside him, the ECG monitors beeped. Nothing seemed amiss, and he couldn't discern any heightened sense of emergency.

If only his body didn't feel like shit.

He could still feel it, the lingering effects of the poison in his system. Gauze wrapped his abdomen, and his body sported fresh scars, some worse than others. He could feel several smaller bandages on his face as well. The demons had knocked him around quite a bit...

Slowly, he sat upright. His lower torso stung, making him wince, but he stayed quiet. Softly, he exhaled, leaning back against the headboard. The soft sounds of distant activity inadvertently lulled him back to sleep.

The sound of nearby voices awoke him. Blinking his eyes open, he saw Verne and Ulrich conversing at the foot of his bed. Verne immediately noticed him.

"Jean. It's good to see you again." The doctor broke away from Ulrich and came to the bedside. "How do you feel?"

Jean sighed, briefly closing his eyes again. He cleared his throat before replying, "Tired. Very tired."

"Hm, despite your rest for the past six days, I'm not surprised." At the look given to him, Verne nodded. "Yes. You've been asleep for almost a week. And rightly so. Your body needed the rest after all you went through."

"How'd you deal with the poison?" Jean rubbed idly at his bandaged abdomen.

"Mother and the ladies helped," Ulrich explained. "They had to create a tonic and some balms for you. It's taking the longest to heal." He beckoned to the gauze.

"Yes, but at least you don't have a hole running through you anymore," Verne added. Before Jean could get a word in, he explained, "And if you so decide to amble about prematurely, I forbid you from hunting."

Jean huffed, much to his brother's amusement. "For how long?"

"At least a week."

"I'm not staying on bedrest for another week."

Verne cast him a withered look.

Relenting, he saluted. "Yes, sir."

Ulrich laughed, walking down the aisle. "I'll tell everyone you're alright. Listen to Verne, brother," he called.

"Yeah, yeah." Jean exhaled, letting his eyes close. To said doctor, he said, "Maybe I'll go to the mainland for a while."

"That would do you good. You haven't done that in months. Just when I thought you'd managed to get some sense, too..."

As Verne checked his status, Jean managed a small smile. He barely took any breaks, even to this day, though he had taken a few in the past couple of years or so.

He longed to see them...

He held the thought of his little family in his mind as he steadily fell back to sleep.

* * *

Verne denied Jean leave from the infirmary until early the next day. After taking a shower and changing into fresh clothes, he left the infirmary and walked up into the antechamber to see Elaine, Calvin, and Gulliver watching television. He smiled upon seeing them but kept his footsteps quiet, taking advantage of their rapt attention on the screen.

As he came closer, however, his ears twitched.

"The strange activity off of the Connecticut shoreline, which supposedly forced local authorities to ask help from the government, has come to an end as of late last night. Bali Coyahuac has the full story."

Blinking up at the screen, he raised a brow. "The government got involved?" he asked, bringing eyes to him.

Elaine nodded, her eyes brightening upon seeing him, only for her expression to darken a moment later. "Yeah. What worse, a shipment of government weapons were destroyed."

"What? How?" Jean crossed his arms.

As she sighed, running a hand through her blond locks, Gulliver grumbled, "Since you've been out, there's been an eerily familiar uptick in human activity--specifically Infernal." He turned in the seat to rest back against the counter. "The demon we faced six days ago was possibly a...a Lord."

Jean slowly nodded, pursing his lips. "So...I woke it up?"

Gulliver shook his head. "We've been trying to figure that out. What exactly woke it up, or brought it there, we don't know...yet. We've a bunch of eyes on it, though; Crane came to our aid in hours, but even with all that artillery, we weren't able to do much of a damn thing to it." He beckoned to the office with his head. "Artie's in the office."

Jean made a beeline toward his office door, leaving them to return to watching television. He opened the ajar door to see his younger cousin sitting on the couch with paper scattered around him.

"Creator help us, Jean," he said without looking up.

"How bad is it?" Jean took a few steps closer. He magnified his sight to scan some of the pages surrounding Artie.

It seemed the papers were not the report but accounts from incidences Ulrich had experienced recently. That didn't bode well; his younger brother dealt with more non-emergent matters, meaning the spike in inhuman activity may have been attracting civilians or that civilians were involved.

"Bad enough." Artie motioned to the desk. "Report's ready, but this is additional data," he said with an exasperated exhale.

Jean moved to the small stack of papers atop his desk and read the first paragraph and accompanying graph. He read the entire first page in seconds, his expression swiftly changing from interest to concern. Mouth opening to comment, he caught himself and slowly reread the page and digested the graph.

"The Lord," he began, brows furrowing, "has been spotted around the country since it left the island..." He frowned deeply.

"Sounds familiar," Artie scoffed, shifting on the couch. "As if we need a reminder of a certain incident."

The top of Jean's lip began to curl at the mere thought of the Entity and its mate from five years ago. Instead, he muttered, "It must have used Mercer and the Roanokes as a base, and since we uncovered it, it's...what, looking for another home?"

He glanced back to see Artie rubbing his forehead, sighing, "Nothing's happening in our immediate area in about three days, but after dealing with the Lord, we were bombarded by demonic activity from here to the shoreline, and all along the entire east coast of Clovure. Holloway got involved, and about five different hunter groups from the surrounding area, including us, were running around like headless chickens to deal with it all." The blue eyes looked up at him. "It's a fucking 37% increase in activity, Jean."

Exhaling through his nose, Jean slowly nodded. He glanced at the chart once more. The rapidly spiking inhuman activity wasn't as bad as the 54% spike from five years prior, but anything higher than 15% was cause for great concern. The next graph displayed the result of the exploits by other groups, where the spikes had been most prevalent, and which groups had gone and done what.

"Meanwhile, Kegan and Ulrich have had their hands...mighty busy. It's unusual..."

Jean idly nodded at the mention of Ulrich and their older cousin. "That what you're reading now?"

"Yeah." Artie leaned back. "Hear this. Humans are disappearing. It's in conjunction with the spikes; there's been a 17% increase in unknown disappearances since six days ago."

Balking, Jean's eyes shot open wide. "What?"

Nodding, Artie continued, "Wherever the Lord goes, people disappear. Interestingly, it's not hunters." He motioned to the paper around him. "I'll put this all together; I imagine you'll be on leave soon?"

"Yeah." Jean made a pointedly polite smile. "Doctors orders."

Chuckling, his cousin said, "It'd do you good, Jean."

He scoffed, moving to sit in his chair and raising the paper to hide his face.

After a few seconds, he smiled to himself.

* * *

The sun beamed high in the early afternoon sky a day later. Jean stood on the deck of his boat, staring at Isle Veni as it gradually disappeared from sight. Once he could no longer see it, he emitted an audible, heavy sigh of relief. He never ceased to feel both a sense of forbidden thrill and impatient yearning when on his way to the mainland.

Behind him, the helmsman softly chuckled. "Glad to be away, sir?"

"Of course, Halle." He glanced back at the older man. "I miss them so much. It's been too long."

His cousin nodded in understanding, his golden eyes focused on the horizon. "From my understanding, it isn't healthy for mates to be separated for long. It creates a great, painful yearning."

Jean rubbed his neck, sobering as he came to the front of the boat. It explained the reason his thoughts kept drifting to them--to his mate--as of late, among other things. He looked off at the sky, deeply inhaling the sea-salt air and enjoying the cool breeze in his hair.

"I consider retiring at times." At the stunned silence, he made a small nod. "I know. I'd have to have a damn good explanation..."

"You would be greatly missed." The touch of sadness in Halle's voice surprised him.

"I...was horrible to you..."

"But that was five years ago. You've changed much since then."

"I suppose," he softly acknowledged, "but that doesn't discard what I did to you in the past..."

He considered, turning his head away. For the past five years, he no longer treated the Lowell servants as invisible slaves. He treated them with respect and openly spoke to and interacted with them. He knew it irked some of his other, non-inhuman family but there was nothing they could do about it nor did he care what they thought of it.

He knew better now--was inhuman now. He knew what both meant to the servants--they who were also family.

"It doesn't." He felt Halle's eyes on him. "But that was the past."

He softly chuckled, looking back at his cousin. "Very well, Halle. I give."

A smile formed on the man's face.

They hadn't even reached Clovure yet and Jean already felt significantly better in mind and spirit. When the Astrolabe anchored at the Connecticut shoreline, he informed his cousin he would contact him when it neared the time for him to leave. After saying farewell, he departed from the boat, towing his motorcycle.

Once off the docks, he led his bike to the intersection and donned his goggles. The second he sat upon the seat, he revved up and sped off. His destination was to the north of the country. If traffic favored him, he would make it to his destination by late afternoon or evening.

He rode in long, calm silence beneath the sound of the motorcycle's engine. He rarely had the chance to travel on his bike, let alone on Isle Veni. As he rode further north, away from the shoreline, the space between locations expanded. Modest towns became the norm as he left cities behind. The land stretched out in rows and rows of greenery. Trees, shrubbery, and grass with intermittent hills, homesteads, and farms met his eyes for as far as he could see.

He lifted his goggles, breaking into a smile. Upon the horizon, the steadily setting sun made for a picturesque sight. His smile slowly lessened as he considered something. He didn't notice sunrises and sunsets on Isle Veni. He had little reason to, as he was always busy with hunts, some way or other. Yes, he saw them. But he never really noticed them.

On the other hand, his little family probably noticed every sunset and sunrise without him. The thought brought a frown to his face, and he lowered his goggles before speeding up.

By the twilight hour, he entered a small, quiet town. The loud noise of his motorcycle brought him several stares of irritation and curiosity alike. From behind tinted lenses, he even caught a few looks of recognition. It did not surprise him when he saw some parents turn their children away from him. He didn't live in the town, not really. Despite the distant familiarity, people were wary of him, even after five years' time, and his intimidating appearance didn't help.

He drove slowly, statue-like, as he sat unmoved with his eyes pointed forward. A few measures into town, he briefly closed his eyes upon sensing the faint pulling of his mate. A tingling sensation passed through his body, bringing a soft, deep sigh past his parted lips. Eager to get home, he revved his bike, bringing several startled looks his way. It successfully cleared a path for him, however, so he sped up a bit.

Dark blue was just settling in the sky as he came to a dead-end path leading up a hill and into a forest. By the time he saw the house on the hilltop, blackness had crept around the edges of his eyes. Soft whispering sang to him, and he took a deep breath, then parked his bike in front of the garage before taking his goggles off. Instead of bringing it inside, he simply pulled a tarp over it.

He heard the front door open and turned to stride toward it, a large smile breaking on his face upon seeing the small form running towards him. Lowering, he scooped the small body into his arms and against his chest. Soft rumbling emitting from his son interrupted intermittent high-pitched chirrups, and he chuckled, rubbing their foreheads together.

"I missed you, Daddy!" the boy giggled, savoring the attention.

"Darryl," Jean said, "I missed you, too." At the happy chirrup, he nuzzled his son's cheek. Large green eyes looked up at him, holding deep adoration in their depths. His smile widened, causing the boy to emit another chirp.

Both of their attention then went to the door when more infantile and urgent chirrups emitted from two smaller forms crawling down the stairs. Nearly identical toddlers fought to their feet and quickly wobbled over, latching themselves onto Jean's legs. Two pairs of blue eyes looked up into his, and he grinned down at them. His tendrils emerged from his back and he reached down to lift them, much to their delight. He nuzzled them both, chuckling while they cuddled against him, all while softly chirping.

As he showered his children with attention, he both sensed and caught sight of his mate watching from the doorway. Holding all three of his older children in his arms, he gave them kisses, causing them to giggle and croon happily. He approached the door and finally looked up to see his mate holding their two youngest children.

First, he took in his mate's gaze. The penetrating green orbs bore into him, and the connection between them, which had already grown since he neared, rekindled like a flame once their eyes met. It had been too long since he last saw Celezar.

The hybrid wore a simple green robe that reached his bare shins. His long auburn hair curled over his shoulders, some strands tightly grasped by their twin daughters in his arms.

Jean's smile somehow widened as he looked upon them. They were awake, staring at him with wide, mismatched blue and green eyes. Curiosity and faint familiarity shone in their gem-like gazes, and very soft purls emitted from them. His expression softened with a touch of sadness when he realized they didn't fully recognize him. Surely, they remembered his scent, but probably not his features.

Regardless, he reached for them with his tendrils. Immediately, tiny hands grabbed them, and his expression brightened when the infants chirruped. Moving closer, he met his mate's eyes. Celezar watched him, a small smile spreading on his freckled face. Jean said nothing, merely gazing at him while lowering his older children to the ground. They immediately scurried inside the house, giggling.

Wordlessly, he reached for his mate, gently placing his hands on the sides of his face. Pulling closer, his eyes closed as he pressed their lips together. A few soft giggles from their children made him smile, and he relaxed at the soft sigh made in return. A slick tongue parted his lips, and he shivered when the black muscle roamed in his mouth. He felt the small hands of their twins between them touch him, becoming familiar with him again.

Gently, he pulled away to smile. "Zarryel," he murmured, watching his mate's green eyes steadily rim with black. He pressed their foreheads together. "I missed you."

Celezar briefly closed his eyes while low rumbling grew in his chest. His smile grew wider, one of happiness, but the undeniable trace of sadness and yearning tainted it. "Welcome home, love."

Jean's heart clenched upon seeing the expression. Suddenly, he wished he would never have to return to Isle Veni. His heart was no longer there, but this...

Once more, he kissed his mate. This time, it was with more passion, a fierce apology, and the promise to make up for it said in a single gesture.

Now he was safe.

Now he was home.