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Crackle

The universe crackled around Fuan. It had, as Luka recalled, done that for as long as Fuan had been in their lives. But it was getting really damned old - especially when he had to work twice as hard resetting nets and generally finding ways to keep Fuan's crackle from making a mess of things.

Though, of course, that sort of work also made for good projects for Neo, who was still making leaps and bounds of progress - nothing so amazing as his unconscious burst in that last battle, but Luka knew he wouldn't see that sort of power again any time soon. He rather hoped he wouldn't, all things considered.

That was probably why Fuan was there, though he'd simply called himself an 'auditor' and cited from wizarding apocrypha that suggested it a perfectly valid position when a student as skilled as Neo was located.

Luka thought, after a day or two, Fuan might, oh... leave.

After two solid months of crackle, Luka realized that Fuan had no intentions of leaving at all. Oh, he left in the evenings, most of the time, and didn't reappear until morning, often in Luka's bedroom... Luka supposed that he had freed Fuan, in a way, but... Fuan didn't need to feel... whatever Fuan felt. His presence - his crackle - wasn't entirely a nuisance. Madame Batolli seemed fond of him. Neo seemed fond of him and had learned quite a few things from him.

But...

This couldn't go on forever! The last year of his life had been constant disruptions and it was getting damned annoying.

Luka flopped into bed, alone, still debating how to get Fuan out of his hair. And once Fuan was gone, Neo could vacuum to get Fuan's hair out of the house as well.

No more crackle, no more--

Luka rolled over, greeting the morning sun with a bleary smile before shifting to look at where he knew Fuan would be.

Except... He was alone, no long black hair like silk, no loose beautiful clothing embroidered with birds and flowers. No crackle. No Fuan.

"Fuan?" Luka called. Maybe Fuan was just running late, not that he could imagine Fuan being anything other than perfectly punctual. Still... Fuan lived somewhere. Fuan returned somewhere. Being a pest wasn't truly the only thing he did. But...

Luka scrambled out of bed, remembering Fuan's confessions once freed. If any of that--

'Fuan!"

In only a robe, Luka ran through the house, encountering only Luel, who had less of a clue where Fuan might be than Luka did. Together - Luka honestly had forgotten that he wasn't dressed - they rushed over to Madame Batolli's, where she, Nell, and Neo were just starting breakfast.

"Is Fuan here?" Luka asked breathlessly.

"Usually he's with you," Nell said. "Did he steal your pants and run off?"

Luka looked down at his robe and frowned. "No. He just..."

And then he felt sort of ridiculous - it wasn't like he cared about Fuan. He'd spent the entire previous evening plotting how to get rid of Fuan, at least for a bit. But he'd just torn about for a good fifteen minutes hoping to find Fuan busy being his usual annoying, crackling self.

"He's usually in my room in the mornings," Luka finally explained. "He didn't say anything about leaving."

"Go home and get dressed," Madame Batolli suggested quickly. "We'll all look for your boyfriend together after breakfast."

"He's not--" Luka frowned. Oh, there was no point in protesting. Besides, underneath it all, Madame Batolli had a point. And it would also give Fuan a few more minutes to make a late appearance.

His room stayed empty as he pulled on a layer of black. Downstairs, he could hear Luel in the kitchen - had he not eaten either?

Luka grabbed a pastry from Luel's hand midway between his bedroom and workroom. He had an idea, of course, and watching as it failed gave him even more ideas.

Wherever Fuan was, it was somewhere shielded. There were plenty of reasons a simple scrying spell wouldn't have been able to find him, even with a strand of that long silky black that Fuan always left when he'd been sitting and waiting too long. That meant that Luka had plenty of ideas of where to start looking.

An hour later, as he was tramping through an overgrown cemetery and working out all sorts of nasty things to say to Fuan, he caught the tiniest hint of crackle - of Fuan's strange magic.

Luka paused, glancing about. All of the spells and consecrations on the cemetery were ancient and he didn't dare disturb them. They'd be easy to snap. But he didn't know what they were guarding... Fuan had to be near-useless in such a place, too and--

"Fuan?" he called to the sunlight peeking thru too-tall trees.

Had someone brought him here to neutralize some of that crackle?

Luka ran a few steps, aching to feel Fuan again. Every time he felt the smallest prick of Fuan's power, he changed direction, ran, over paths lost to time and past decaying stones and statues.

Finally, Luka raced into a clearing - a perfect ring of trees with a single grave in their center. Sunlight bathed the bleached monument, making it nearly too bright to look at properly. An angel, wings spread, guarded over Fuan, who was sprawled on top.

"Fuan!"

Fuan looked up slowly, confused, and pushed back his hair as he sat up. There was dirt on his clothing, something so completely un-Fuan-like that Luka almost, for a moment, actually flat out worried.

"Good morning, Luka," Fuan managed softly.

"Are you okay?" Luka questioned as he crossed over to the tomb and heaved himself up to sit beside Fuan. "You're dirty. You... weren't in my room and then I couldn't find you."

"Well I'm sorry to break it to you, but I do have a handful of outside obligations," Fuan said flatly. Too flatly - Luka knew it was an act.

"Neo was worried."

"So were you," Fuan added as he leaned against Luka. Luka knew he should complain about Fuan's weight, about the dirt and about the crackle of Fuan's strange magic soaking over onto him.

"You should have told me you were taking a day off. I thought-- Well..."

"You would have known if it was something like that," Fuan interjected.

They were both quiet for a long moment and Luka was thankful he'd dispatched everyone to different cemeteries to search.

"Whose tomb is this?" Luka finally questioned. For Fuan to apparently have spent the night cleaning it--

"Someday, it will be mine," Fuan replied. He shifted and gave Luka a soft smile. "Until then, I promised to take care of it. Often, the volunteers miss it, which is okay."

Luka knew there was no point in pushing. Instead he just reached to pull Fuan back against him, not entirely surprised that Fuan didn't push his arm away. Their lives were far too intertwined now - Luka understood that. He was used to the crackle, after all. He seemed to need it to be there. He'd find a net that wouldn't catch Fuan - Fuan had already been caught, after all.

Though for all the weird things for his father to have left him...

Fuan relaxed against him and for a few minutes longer, they sat quietly in the sun.