Chapter Text
It’s November 1st before Tyler finally starts to relax.
He’s spent most of the past two days hiding in his house. Eva drops Oli off on Tuesday and they watch Disney movies and sleep and do very little else. Had Tyler been in the mood (and had he not known his friends well enough to know they move like sloths in terms of dating), he would’ve teased Oli about staying the night with his girlfriend. But truth be told, that first night alone had been hell, his dreams replaying Eva and Jetpack Girl falling from the balcony over and over and over again. Eventually he’d given up on sleep and lay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering what all this meant for his future, and if he’d have a whole new fresh set of trauma when he was just getting over his last one.
Maybe, he thinks morosely. But at least this time he isn’t alone.
Oli’s the cure, as it turns out. He’d been the one to suggest The Hunchback of Notre Dame, since he’s never seen it, and Tyler gasps like it’s the most scandalous thing he’s heard in years, and then they don’t stop with that one.
Tyler’s asleep halfway through The Lion King II, and he stays that way, nightmares be damned, Upendi ringing in his ears and making him think that even if they're not okay right now, they might be. Eventually.
-
It’s November 4th and Tyler suddenly understands why GTLive went on a brief hiatus. The bruises are ugly and quite frankly terrifying to look at and he can’t stop himself from gasping as Matt unwinds the scarf from around his neck when he comes in that Sunday for group.
“Oh, Matt,” he says, and he’s already tearing up.
Matt looks embarrassed, but the smile he gives Tyler is a shy one. “It’s not as bad as it was,” he says quietly, voice still a bit raspy. “I’ve been working on figuring out the— my magic, because I think I can maybe heal it, but I haven’t found much yet.”
Tyler wants to hug him, but he suspects that won’t be very productive. Oli rescues him by patting Matt on the shoulder, every inch the gentle giant in the room. “You’ll figure it out,” he tells him, resolute faith resonating in his tone and words.
Matt brushes his fingertips on his neck. “On the bright side,” he says, some of that signature dry humor creeping in, “I think I’m desensitized to that trigger now. Guess we can say exposure therapy works.”
“That was not exposure therapy,” Tyler says, sharper than he meant to by the startled expression that crosses Matt’s face. He winces, softening a little. “Matt, she hurt you. You can be upset about that, it’s okay.”
He ducks his head, his long bangs coming forward to hide his eyes (he's gotten a haircut since Tyler's last seen him—and with the observation comes a sickening realization Tyler wishes he hadn't made). Eventually he murmurs, “Okay.”
And Tyler doesn’t really think he believes him, but he backs off as the others arrive.
It’s okay. They have time. And just because they’ve slipped a few steps doesn’t mean they never made any progress.
The session is mostly a check in to see where everyone’s at, and an introduction for Joey, since he’s never been before. Tyler shares his book with him, but he mostly sits on the stage next to Eva, watching the group with quiet, wary eyes. Tyler tries not to feel like they’re starting all over again. Really, all he has to do is look over to his left, and there’s Andrea, smiling at him with a fondness she only reserves for him. And on his right, Oli and Eva sit side by side, one hand on the other even as they’re listening intently to what Matt and Joey have been uncovering about the crystal. Nikita fires off a scathing joke or two, and Joey—who’s known her before, went through their slaughtering together, and so isn’t startled at all by her sense of humor—laughs easily at them.
Tyler feels some of that tension leave him. They’ve slipped for sure. But healing, after all, isn’t linear.
And they’re gaining ground.
-
It’s November 8th when Andrea shows up on his doorstep with Jetpack Girl in tow.
“I need your help,” she says, very serious. “Jetpack Girl doesn’t have any modern clothes.”
“Well that just won’t do,” Tyler says, looking at their sheepish friend. She’s in a corset, for crying out loud.
Tyler’s happy to see them both. They spend the day at the mall making Jetpack Girl try on every outfit imaginable, finally settling on Hipster Lesbian Seattlite—what consists mostly of ripped skinny jeans, old and faded leather jackets, plaid shirts and beanies. Tyler makes her try on a pair of lensless glasses as well and gives a slow whistle as he steps back to study her.
“Do you like girls or guys, JG?” he asks, to which she responds, “Oh I am so gay, Tyler, like— so gay.”
He laughs. “What do you think?”
She frowns at herself when she looks in the mirror, turning this way and that before solemnly turning to her friends and saying, “It’s just missing one thing.”
They find a backpack in the shape of a jetpack in Fuego, and Jetpack Girl is practically giddy by the time they leave the mall. Tyler and Andrea trade knowing smiles and Tyler resolves to figuring out how to (definitely illegally) obtain an identity for their time-displaced friend.
Apocalypse is coming, yada yada, but so is Christmas and Tyler doesn’t have the patience to be terrified shitless anymore.
-
It’s November 14th and Matt’s over, partly because Tyler would like his help in figuring out magic and partly because he’d missed group a few days ago and that, more than anything, worries the hell out of him. They all would’ve panicked too had Stephanie not called him and told him, voice quiet with coveted awe, that he’s sleeping.
And Matt certainly looks better when he shows up that afternoon. His bruises are gone, and his voice is clear when he greets Tyler as he opens the door.
Tyler grins, delighted. “You figured it out!”
“Kinda,” he corrects as Tyler moves aside to let him in. “It more or less happened on its own. I think it’s maybe instinct, like how you threw out a hand and created a whirlwind to catch Eva and Jetpack Girl back at the church.”
Tyler flexes his hand at the reminder. “Yeah, I’d like to know how to do that on purpose,” he admits. “If this thing is happening—”
“No, yeah, training is a good idea,” Matt agrees. “Nikita and I have already been working on it.”
Tyler raises his brows. “Maybe we should make it a group thing?”
“You wanna add that segment to group?”
He wrinkles his nose at the thought. “I really don’t think Myling would appreciate us setting things on fire in her coffee shop.”
“Touché.” He looks around the silent house. “Where’s Oli?”
“On a date.” Tyler smirks. “Think they’re finally doing something normal and seeing a movie or something.”
“Exciting.”
Tyler shrugs. “We need a little normal, don’t you think?”
“True that.”
Matt’s brown eyes dance with mirth, and it’s almost startling to see. Tyler hasn’t really noticed up till now—and he kicks himself every day for it, to be honest—but Matt had always carried this heavy sadness with him with everything he did. Some of it is still there, lingering in his long gazes and how a smile will fade and quiet, but the change is profound.
“You look good,” Tyler notes sometime later, after they’ve given up on trying to recreate the miniature tornado he’d pulled—no pun intended—out of thin air. They’re back inside, safe from the bite of November wind and nursing hot chocolates that Tyler added some peppermint to because a) ‘tis the season and b) he’s still not the biggest fan of sweet things in general.
Matt hums into his cocoa, cupping the mug to warm his hands. “Nightmares are gone,” he remarks. “At least the recurring one. Honestly, compared to that, the others are a cakewalk.”
“I know what you mean,” Tyler says, staring into his own cup. “But I’m glad you’ve finally been getting some sleep.”
There’s a long moment when Matt doesn’t speak, and when he does he sounds hesitant still. “Tyler—”
“If you’re going to apologize again, you can save it,” Tyler tells him, not unkindly. “Matt. It’s okay.”
“It doesn’t feel okay,” Matt admits. “I keep thinking of everything I should have done, how this could’ve turned out so much better—”
“Should and could don’t matter when it is,” Tyler reminds him, and is surprised when he huffs out a laugh. “What?”
“Nothing. You just sound like Nikita.”
“I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”
“As you should.”
They pack up, since it’s edging into winter now and lord knows it’s dark enough as it is even without the sun setting earlier and earlier. Tyler tries to ignore it, but it feels like a Sign.
“Have you figured out the crystal yet?” he asks as he walks Matt to the door.
Matt shakes his head. “We have a couple of ideas though. Just need to solidify a plan first.” At Tyler’s doubtful look, he adds, “We’ll tell you guys at next group, I promise.”
“If you don’t sleep through it,” Tyler teases, and regrets it a little when Matt flinches. “Hey, it’s okay. I’d rather you be sleeping, you know that.”
“I do,” Matt agrees, looking a little sheepish. “I do, Tyler, really. It’s just… I guess maybe the attention is… I’m not used to it.”
“Well get used to it, Matthew,” Tyler tells him, crossing his arms. “‘Cause I really don’t think any of us are going to be taking our eyes off you ever again.”
He expects a little more of the pleased blush Matt tends to get when he’s reminded he has friends who care about him, but Matt’s stunning smile that lights up the foyer damn near blinds him. “What?” he asks, blinking into it. “What did I say?”
“You called me Matthew,” he points out.
Tyler frowns, remembering Iridessa’s insistence on calling Matt by his full name. “Is that bad?”
Matt shakes his head. “It’s good, coming from you. Coming from my friends.”
And, well, Tyler doesn’t really understand, but he lets it go, waving from his doorway as Matt starts his car and heads back home.
He practices some more that night, but magic is tiring as hell, and Oli finds him passed out in the living room with papers strewn all about in the wake of the whirlwind he was successfully able to pull off.
He wakes up in his bed with the covers drawn to his chin and thinks that maybe this is actually going to turn out okay.
-
It’s November 21st and they’ve gathered at the cemetery.
Anthony sighs upon seeing them all together, finally voicing, “Two years it’s just been the two of you, and now there are—” He counts, raising an eyebrow. “Nine?”
Jetpack Girl and Daniel have also joined—they need them, for this plan to work—but they linger in the back with the other new arrivals.
Tyler gives him a placating smile. “We’re pretty sure this is the last of us,” he tells him, adding silently, And hopefully the last time we’ll have to come here.
Anthony chuckles. “You’re a good boy, Tyler,” he tells him, and warmth explodes in Tyler’s chest as the cemetery owner opens the gate and lets them on through.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Matt murmurs to Nikita when she pauses at the entrance. He takes her by the hand and gently leads her across the threshold. “We’re going to pull this off, I promise.”
It’s their usual routine. Tyler has a hard time concentrating on it, though, because he’s so freaking anxious. Matt and Joey had outlined the plan at group last Sunday, but there’s still a slight chance that this goes horribly, terribly wrong and all hell breaks loose—literally. Despite this, Matt’s calm confidence is a boon in the morning chill, and Joey’s bubbly hope is infectious. Tyler doesn’t really relax, but he does begin to believe that they might actually pull this off.
They reconvene in the third lot, letting Nikita kneel at Manny’s headstone alone for a moment while they set up the circle.
Andrea looks doubtfully at what looks like a séance being set up. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
Matt pauses, tilting his head. “Maybe eighty-seven percent sure?”
“That’s a weirdly specific number.”
“Well, I calculated it.”
“You would,” Nikita tells him as she rejoins the group. Her eyes are suspiciously puffy, but she nudges Matt with affection and says, “Nerd.”
“I’m allowed to be, I got a perfect score on my SATs.”
Tyler gapes at him. “Did you really?”
Matt shrugs. “Wasn’t that hard.”
“It’s done,” Joey announces, sitting back. The circle is made of lit candles, allowing for seven gaps—where they all would sit—with the crystal lying in the middle of it. Tyler thinks that the wind is going to puff out the candles immediately, but to his surprise they don’t even really flicker, despite the early morning breeze ruffling through his hair.
He takes that as a good sign and kneels, Eva on one side and Andrea on the other. Nikita eyes the grass, nudging at it with the toe of her black leather boot. “It’s not wet, is it?”
Matt rolls his eyes and tugs her down to sit on his right, Andrea on his left. Daniel stands behind Joey, holding his shoulders as the Scythe offers his hands for Oli and Nikita to take. When they’ve all joined hands, Joey looks a bit nervously at Matt, who smiles and nods at him.
“So we’re clear on what’s going on, then,” he says, holding each person’s gaze to make sure there’s no confusion. “We get all of them or we get none of them, those are the rules. And we try not to use our magic, because that’ll alert him to what we’re doing.”
“If he doesn’t know already,” Nikita mutters.
“He would’ve stopped us by now if he knew,” Matt says, sounding a lot more confident than Tyler feels. “We can do this, you guys.”
“Okay.” Joey takes a deep breath. “Tyler, do you want to do the honors?”
Tyler blinks, startled. “Why me?”
“‘Cause you did it last time,” Andrea reminds him with a little grin. “And this whole thing kind of started with you pulling us together to do group. Without you, none of this would be happening.”
Tyler blushes. And he says, voice squeaking just a little bit, “Yeah, sure! Why not?”
It’s November 21st and Thanksgiving is tomorrow and Tyler is scared out of his mind at the thought of diving into a multi-dimensional prison to bring back his dead friends without letting the Cursed God know they’re rifling through his stuff but, more than anything in the world, he wants to hug Alex and apologize for ever letting him die in that horrible place. So he squares his shoulders. And he closes his eyes.
And he whispers, towards the crystal, “Sanctum regnum.”
The whole world explodes in light.