"You don't have brothers?" I asked curiously. I remembered he said there were no female pucks, so there would be no sisters. "Lucky bastard." I elbowed Nik sharply.
"No." He shook his head. "The fashion in which we procreate… no. There are no siblings, ever. Lucky…" The twist to his lips was as rueful as the green of his eyes was melancholy. "I guess that's one way of looking at it." Abruptly, he straightened and clapped his hands sharply. "Let's get this show on the road." Climbing out of the beat-up recliner, he motioned me toward it. "Have a seat."
Taking my position cautiously, I was suddenly wary despite my best intentions. I caught Niko's gaze lingering on the faded sweatshirt. His lips parted, but in the end he said nothing about the shirt. What he did say was, "If you change your mind, Cal, at any time, simply speak up. Robin will stop immediately. Correct, Goodfellow?"
"Right away," he promised promptly. "Hand to Zeus. Or Baal, God, Buddha, Amon-Ra. Take your pick." Sitting on the arm of the chair, he captured my eyes. "We'll start with a relaxation technique, and then we'll work on deepening the state. All of this is totally painless and probably even boring for you, Caliban. So get comfortable."
"What? No shiny gold watch to swing in front of me?" I shifted nervously despite myself. Some big, bad monster killer I was.
"No." Robin smiled reassuringly. All the teasing, provocation, and gleeful determination to annoy was gone. Here was a Robin as professional and empathetic as any doctor. Goodfellow was proving to have layers upon layers. "No watch. No amulet. I may have you focus on something in the room, but that's it. Are you ready?"
My mouth went dry, but I nodded. "Nik, don't let him make me act like a chicken, okay?"
"I won't." Niko squeezed my arm lightly, then tugged at my ear. "Not this time anyway."
"Ready?" Robin repeated.
"Yeah," I exhaled. "Let's do it."
Robin leaned in closer. "Listen to my voice, Cal. That's all you have to do. Listen. It'll be the easiest, most simple thing you've ever done. Just listen."
I did. I listened and the world went away.
I woke up with a wall in front of me and the hardwood floor beneath me. It was as if no time had passed at all. One moment Robin was talking to me in a soothing, lulling voice while I sat in the chair, and the next I was… where was I? I blinked several times and my vision cleared. I was on the floor, curled up in the corner of the living room. On my knees, hands flat on the cool surface of the wall, I had my head jammed into the corner hard enough I felt the pressure like an ache. I sucked in a breath that burned my throat like acid. My throat was sore. Why was my throat sore?
"Cal?"
Niko's voice came from behind me. It was calm and controlled… on the surface. Underneath I heard something I hadn't heard in a long, long time, not since the night I'd come home: anguish. Nik… what was wrong with Nik? I managed to turn my head, my neck howling in protest. It was stiff, tight, locked into place like the rest of me. But I still managed to move enough that I could see Niko and Robin crouched behind me, several feet away. Both looked the worse for wear. Goodfellow had a bruise blooming on one cheekbone, a scrape on his chin, and his shirt half torn off. Niko had blood trickling down one side of his face from four parallel scratch marks, and several hanks of blond hair had been pulled from his braid to straggle loose. He had a hand outstretched toward me, patient and unmoving.
"Nik?" My voice came out hoarse and strained, all but gone.
Niko sagged a bit, but his face remained placid and mild. "I'm right here, little brother. Everything's all right. We're home. Everything is fine."
One hand dropped from the wall to land on the floor beside my leg. I watched it blankly, feeling numb, disconnected. "Fine? Oh. Okay." Even those few words had the pain flaring in my throat with the heat of a volcano. Ignoring that, I concentrated and managed to get my other hand down too. The fingers were blanched white from the grip they'd had on the wall. "My throat hurts." I looked up again at him and Robin. "Why does my throat hurt?"
Robin turned the color of milk. His eyes dark holes in his white face, he scrambled to his feet and ran. Moments later we heard him retching in the bathroom. I tried for a smile for Niko. My lips refused to cooperate, barely twitching. "Something I said?"
"I think he blames himself." Niko moved closer to me and, with hands fastened gently on to my shoulders, carefully eased me around. Then he pulled me into a hug so tight I felt my ribs creak. "He isn't alone."
Bewildered, I patted him awkwardly on the back. "Nik, what happened?" The colors were beginning to seep back into my surroundings; I was losing that peculiar distance. "How'd I get down here?"