Truthfully, he only really knew of the boy in passing glances at photos. Avalon had a few around the house, had rolled her eyes and told him who the boy was and his name. She had neglected to mention that he had taken after Chance in any manner, so it was startling to come face to face with his grandson, only to find the boy covered in blood.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” the words more to himself than his grandson, but still loud enough to be heard.
“Then I will straight up carry your ass there and back, blankets and all. Don’t think I won’t.”
It wouldn’t be the first time Matt had done something like that. Ever since he’d hit that certain point as a kid where his growth spurts started to overtake his siblings, he’d gone from being the one getting piggyback rides and such to the one giving them, the malamute side of his genetics kicking in hardcore.
“You pick me up and I’m biting you,” he warned, a faint growl in his voice. It wasn’t a threatening growl, more playful, but he would still bite the other if he had to.
Absently, Tucker nuzzled at Matt a little, the shivering almost completely gone and his body relaxing. It was still a little too cold for him, but he could, at the very least, handle it now.
It was pure chance, really, that Chayton had actually been home for longer than a day or so. After Jesse and Dyson had hit a certain age, he had gone back to being pretty nomadic. Sure, the boys were always welcome to join him, but, more often than not, it was Judas that was tagging along and getting into trouble. Of course, that didn’t mean Chay didn’t get up to his own trouble. The aftermath of some of it finally coming back to bite him in the ass.
Not many people knew where to find him, but anyone with a knack for magic could easily do a tracking spell if they had an example of his DNA. It didn’t take a genius to realize that was how anyone had tracked him down to his exact apartment.
Most of the people he knew never bothered to knock, so it had put him on edge, the markings on his skin flaming to life, pale blue light dancing over his skin as he opened the door slowly. Frowning, he glanced around, the only thing out of a place being a baby carrier in front of his door, covered with a light blanket, a note resting atop of it with his name carefully written out.
Chayton,
You’re an asshole to find, I can’t handle a kid, and there’s no way she would survive in the foster care system. I don’t know what the fuck you are, but this kid is too damn much and she’s only 2 months old. Seriously, what the actual fuck are you? Actually, you know what, I don’t care. Tell the kid whatever you want about me, just keep her the hell away from me.
-Annalise.
He remembered the woman, a witch from somewhere down in Alabama. Or was it Georgia? He couldn’t remember quite where, but she had been a weekend thing. There had been absinthe involved, he remembered that much. Her attitude towards having a kid was bothersome, but not really shocking. She hadn’t been the nicest person. Honestly, she had been more of Judas’s type than his own, but it hadn’t mattered at the time.
Slowly, he lifted the blanket to actually look at the baby, a little shocked to see she was wide awake. He had never seen an infant so perfectly still and quiet. His boys had only ever been like that when they were asleep.
The stillness lasted only a couple of breaths before the child let out a shrill string of baby babble, her bright blue eyes lighting up as she tried to reach for him. Something in her seemed to recognize him and, for a moment, Chayton just stood there in a complete and total panic.
With his sons, he had had their mother. Gypsy had definitely been better at the parenting thing than he had been, although he did try. Which made her the obvious choice for the rambling, panic filled text message that likely didn’t make much sense
Naturally, the child picked up on the mood and her happy sounds turned to distressed ones before the lights in the hall shattered. It was enough to snap him back into focus enough to busy himself with trying to calm her, if only to keep her from bringing the place down until he could figure out what the hell he was supposed to do with her.
Azrael was quickly working out that Chance didn’t actually have much of an understanding of the current situation, despite his attempts to bluff it, and it was more than obvious that he was playing for time until someone better equipped showed up. It didn’t take much to assume Jophiel had accounted for that though into his plan since rounding up his rogue brothers and sisters was his first priority over any games he could play with other creatures, whether they had any angelic blood or not.
Chance might have had enough understanding of the various spells and sigils warding the place to allow him to navigate them, but the angel bound in chains in the traps centre understood the exact combination used and for what purpose. If Chance even tried to remove Azrael from there on his own, the chains would break and set the angel loose, unleashing a destructive force more powerful than any nuclear weapon ever built.
“No, I think you are the trap and Kellen would have been the bait had I actually allowed him to waltz in here like a dumbass,” he returned, sounding far more bored than he actually felt.
He knew Azrael wasn’t an idiot. Chance had never been that great of an actor. Sure, it had been easy when Sera had been younger, but that was because he was giving his mother what she wanted to see, so she never looked deeper. He knew his step-father hadn’t been nearly as fooled as his mother and he knew the other damn sure could tell he was just stalling for time.
“Do remember that anything that affects you physically also affects my mother,” he finally pointed out, not liking the way the air inside the industrial freezer was warm because of the angel before him. “I’d hardly like to see her catch fire because you did. I don’t think she or the zombie would survive spontaneous combustion.” He didn’t think it would work, not really, but he was hoping there was still some part of the man that had helped raise him in there, some flicker that would care enough about Brittia or Mort to buy just a little more time. Not for himself or anything, but for the small handful of people he actually didn’t want dead.
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it, but if I think for a minute you’re still not warm enough, I’m gonna turn it off. Deal?”
Matt wouldn’t take no for an answer, even if he had to make Tucker think it was his idea instead.
“Don’t see how you’ll be able to with me wrapped around you like a sloth,” he pointed out, having absolutely no intentions of letting go of Matt for even a moment.
Of course he knew what his brother was trying to pull, but he didn’t really care. He was comfortable for the moment.
“Longer than you can go without this,” she teased, matching his tone perfectly even though they both knew neither of them could stand up to the challenge for too long before they both cracked, since they were so completely entwined with each other that they’d been inseperable since they were kids.
“Doubt it since I can sleep a lot longer than you can,” he taunted, wiggling his eyebrows at her playfully. He never slept as long as he probably should but only because he preferred to spend his time with her.
Azrael would have never made such a comment if he was in his right mind, but only time would tell if Chance would realise just how little of his stepfather as he knew him existed in that room, and as such the risk he took in attempting to handle a creature he was far too unfamiliar with and entirely unprepared to go up against if it were to get loose from the chains currently binding it.
If Chance poked too hard and didn’t buy enough time, it was increasingly likely the angel would make good on his threat, since Chance was hardly in Azrael’s good books to start with, and the creature currently staring Chance down cared even less, for Chance or the consequences of causing him harm, regardless of his potential to heal from it.
No, if anything, Azrael in his current state posed a real threat even to Chance’s life, or at least his physical state. Not to mention the wider danger of what could happen if the angel broke loose and saw the state of the world and the people in it.
“Generally speaking, I would prefer that you didn’t. Especially when we had a deal. One sealed in blood,” he pointed out, resisting the urge to make an ill timed joke. Especially when he knew Azrael hardly found him funny on a good day and this…well, this was as far from a good day as he could imagine.
Remaining as nonchalant as he could manage, he pulled out his own phone to check the time, wondering if the kid had managed to get a hold of anyone useful before shooting a text to Avalon of all people to tell her to get his son out of that house and get the cage ready. He wasn’t entirely sure if it would hold Az at all, but it was worth a shot.
“Are you done making threats? Because they’re a little tiresome and I’d really rather you not set the whole place on fire with both of us in it.”
send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child.
Name: Ciara (pronounced Keer-uh)
Gender: female
General Appearance: def got her mom’s hair color and facial expressions but you can still see a bit of her dad in her facial structure
Personality: T-R-O-U-B-L-E on two legs. She definitely got the worst habits of both of her parents
Special Talents: Shifting (wolf)
Who they like better: Danicka
Who they take after more: Danicka if only because she doesn’t see the use in selling/doing drugs
Personal Head canon: She got arrested for hot-wiring and stealing a car when she 12. After that, her parents taught her to not get caught instead of teaching her to maybe not commit grand theft auto.
“You cut a single hair and you won’t be getting none of this until you grow it back.”
Of course she knew he was teasing, but that was half the fun, and sure, she might have chickene out last time, but she wasn’t going to this time.
“You really think you can deny all of this?” he shot back, leaning in just a bit.
They had never really been able to say no to each other and it was something he had always depended on. She was his stability when he got too lost in his work.
ofviolentdeath 