Nicholas Seymour

Oh, she was scared? "Shut the fuck up. Get the fuck away from my house. You can write me, if you want to talk but I can't do this. I was enjoying my day off, until now. Another day ruined by mrs. Bailey. She must think she's really something. Fuck off."  And with that he slammed the door, so satisfying, and went back to the puzzle he'd been working on. One good thing about this, atleast Blythe would be very proud of him. And he was quite proud of himself, too.
 
Xati and Mike out

She would've laughed at his pronounciation in French, if things had still been the way they had been, but they weren't. She could feel his anger burning hot, and almost felt like the door was there to protect her, instead of the other way around. And the worst part was he was right. She knew him, and had known he would just let her have her way. She had left him in the hospital, without a word, that much was true. But the healers had been there, his family, they gave him the support she could never give him and she had been scared. Of Rye knowing, coming for her, and of Mike's family. They'd know. Of her husband being dragged to court if she showed her face. But it was harsh to hear the truth so plainly. Nobody really talked to her like that. 
 
She pressed her lips together. She wanted to lash out at him, call him an asshole and all the colourful words in her vocabulary. Hearing him now made her feel even more guilty. "Mike." She frowned. "I..." She shook her head. "You're right. I should've come by, or written a letter or something. I was just too scared."

She came to check if her friend was okay, how sweet. He kept his stance, but lifted his hand off his wand now. She wasn't a threat, atleast. "If you cared you would've come to check on me in the hospital. Your husband did this to me for what we did. I'd thought you'd atleast pay me a visit. Emmerde-you too." Whatever the fuck that meant, it probably wasn't good if she chose to switch to French for one word. "I would've been fucking there if it had been you, even for a little but, but you didn't even write me. How sick is that. Neither you nor Rye wrote me. It doesn't matter what we did, if your friend almost dies you care enough to show your face." He felt the pain in his voice now but he didn't care, let her see how much it had hurt. She deserved to feel guilty for it. He knew her enough to know she would.
 
"I don't think you two really realise how it was for me. You used me to feel better, to forget about Rye. I used you to feel better too, to forget about Nehemia and Rye used me as a dummy to destroy to let out his anger. I couldn't go to the bathroom by myself for weeks, I could still feel everything move inside of me, getting back into position. You both didn't fucking care enough to show your faces, didn't feel guilty enough. I know what I did was bad, but had things been reversed, had Rye been with my girl, I would've kicked him in the balls, I would've cussed her out. But I wouldn't go and stab him, and if I did, God. I would be by his bedside that night to apologize." He was shaking with the anger he hadn't allowed himself to feel since it all had happened, wanted to slam the door in her face again, but he wasn't done with her yet.
 
"But perhaps I am just too eager, too hungry for love and friendship. That's what you sniffed out too. Had you tried it with anyone else in our group, you know it wouldn't have worked, but you know it would work with me and then you just played me and left me to die. You both left me to die." That's what it felt like, anyway.

Ouch. She hadn't expected that blow from Mike, of all people. "Je t’emmerde, no, I am not here for that, don't flatter yourself, dickhead. I work in the same hospital they brought you to and when I heard the description and what had happened I knew it was you. But I was too afraid to come see you then, to check if my friend was okay." He was so hostile, she wasn't used to him like that. Didn't think Michael Baker even had a hostile mode. He seemed slow and sad and sulky, only spun into action by love or lust. When they were with friends he was happy, but happy people didn't want to kill themselves, now did they?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about, did she want him to relay his trauma to her? How Janvier had looked at him, horrified at all the blood spilling from him, his inability to stand up? The derealisation when he realised he could see his organs? Or the moment when he woke up, the way his biological mother looked at him. It broke his heart hearing her cries. He couldn't understand the words she'd yelled behind his ear as she hugged him tight, but he knew what she'd meant. She'd lost him once already. It hurt him so much to know he'd hurt his mom that much. She didn't deserve it, after all she'd suffered. And Thomas had looked so furious, he'd never seen him that angry before. Kept saying he wasn't going to let this happen to his family, that he was going to contact his lawyers if he just gave the word. But Mike never gave the word because he still cared for Rye. He could've drug his ass to the courtroom, and the evidence would've been damning. His wounds lined up exactly with Rye's antlers, Janvier would probably testify if he asked her, but he couldn't. But he also didn't want anything to do with Rye or his wife anymore. 
 
"There's nothing to say besides that you kissed me. And that was my punishment for letting another person use me. I did what I did but you started it." He always let it happen, never said no. Didn't really feel he had a right to say no. People always used him for that. Married people, too. So Xati hadn't been any different. His friends hadn't been any different. He shouldn't have done what he'd done, but they'd betrayed him too. He thought he'd been safe with them. He'd never expected Xati to make a move on him, had never expected Rye to retaliate in that way. What was Rye's intention anyway, with that letter? "I really hope you just came here for a chat and nothing else, because it'd be really fucking sad if not. To come running for me after getting consent from your husband. Is that why you're here?" To take advantage of his want for attention again? Because he wasn't going to let her. In all honesty he was furious with her.

She nodded. "Good." Though she wasn't sure if she believed him. He was always hiding how he felt, wasn't he? That's how he ended up on the floor in her barn. "I was just thinking, maybe we can talk about it." 

She wanted to see if he was alright? What the fuck? "I'm fine." He said, rather sharp again. "That's all?" He didn't want her here. Thomas and Blythe were out with the kids and he didn't feel safe right now. Xati was the reason he'd almost kicked the bucket and he really wasn't wanting to relive those moments where the drugs the healers had given him were kicking in, forcing him to pass out, while knowing he was so close to the end. He'd tried to fight, but his body had betrayed him and he only remembered everything that happened then in a blur. Nothing hurt him, he wasn't there, and yet he'd felt so terrified. Feeling his heartbeat slow down so much he didn't even know was possible.
 
Just because Rye had decided he was fine with him seeing her didn't mean he wanted to.

She opened her eyes wide as the door slammed in her face. She didn't know what reaction she'd expected, but certainly not this. Mike was nothing if not desperate for attention and she hadn't ever known him to reject anyone's attempts. To contact him, too. But there the door opened again, but only a little bit. She could see a small part of his face, the rest hidden behind the wooden door, and a sharp question. "Nothing. I just wanted to check if you're alright." She said softly, feeling the guilt towards him seep in. The guy looked at him as if she was wielding a knife, and was about to break in. So on guard he was.

It had been a little while now since the fiasco in the bar. His wounds had healed into scars, his body worked like it should again, yet the feeling of impending doom followed him. Like Rye could show up at any moment to finish what he'd started. They weren't friends anymore, and Mike had realised after talking to Blythe he didn't really want to be anymore. There were a whole lot of other options Rye could've gone for, instead of the drastic approach he'd chosen. Thomas had urged him to press charges, but he'd said no, time and again, and since he was an adult there was nothing Thomas could do but shake his head in frustration.
 
He hadn't expected Rye on his doorstep, but there was one he expected even less. And she was there, right now.
 
He slammed the door shut upon seeing her, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He used the safety chain so the door only openend to a small gap as he held his wand that was in the back pocket of his trousers. "What do you want?" He asked cautiously. He wasn't interested in anything, was not planning on getting stabbed again. There was nothing he wanted to have to do with neither Xati nor Rye. They were bad news.

Geregeld!