The Drums Return

The Drums Return
Nikolias closed his eyes, breathing their shared air. Derek listened to the slowing of Nikolias’s heart, and he'd back the rest of what he wanted to say, following the face of Nikolias’ breathing, existing with him for a little while.

The memories of Nikolias throwing himself into danger over and over again just to stave off the dread of the slow march towards his death flowed in a rush of images and heart-racing flashes. 

Skydiving and toying with the buckle of his parachute. He’d only been able to get on that plane by leveraging the difference in legal requirements in non-I.C.S. territories for demi-humans. He’d been too young to skydive with any reputable company within the I.C.S. His berserker-marked ID had gotten him into a lot of places he shouldn't have been, running wild for years just to feel alive and fake acceptance of his impending death for days.

The guilt of sneaking in and out of his window hadn’t been enough to make him stop, feeding some dark desire to blame his parents and growing the longer those ugly feelings festered. 

Derek could only imagine what those pages of his diary sounded like and hoped Nikolias would never have to relive that. 

Nikolias had said he'd saved a life and he'd chosen not to go in for a suppression, that he'd struggled with the decision, but the memories screamed how much he'd downplayed the struggle.

Hallucinations without drugs, fighting shadows in a cell for days, teetering on the edge of madness with nothing but his own mind for company and a vague presence nearby.

Gotta have— have— have—havoc!

Havoc’s name made a lot more sense, though the car’s personality was a mystery.

“I suppose I don’t have to explain much more?” Nikolias’ voice, soft as a whisper, floated in the space between them. “At least much more?” He swallowed. “I’d… I’d really rather save that for when we’re actually alone, if you want to know details.”

“I…” Derek hesitated. “I want to know what you want to tell me.”

He chuckled. “Here I was thinking I’d tell you what you wanted to know.” Blue and brown eyes opened, searching his own. “You’re amazing, you know?”

Derek pushed against his forehead. “I think you’re at least one degree more amazing.”

“We’ll agree to disagree.” Nikolias pulled back, sniffing and shaking himself, glancing down the hallway. “You’re… probably about to pee yourself.”

“I only came to catch you alone.” Derek dropped his gaze. “But… I do have a small question?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it done?” Derek glanced up at him. “Like… you won’t have to come back to Texas except for Tyler?”

He grimaced. “That remains to be seen, but… I hope not.” 

Nikolias turned, offering his hand. “Shall we? The band should be done taking down, and I did plan to talk to her.”

Derek set his jaw. “I want to be mad.”

“I won’t stop you, but don’t be mad at the band. They’re innocent.”

Derek took his hand and followed him out. Lucas was stuffing a forkful of bulgogi in his mouth and froze like he’d been caught. “Sorry… I… really only planned to have a few bites.”

Nikolias scoffed. “I’d be a fool for believing that.”

Nikolias pulled out Derek’s chair, and though Derek sat and didn’t look at Lucas, the man cooed, and Derek couldn’t stop the flush. Nikolias threw a wadded paper towel at him. 

“Grow up.”

“Rude! Throwing things at the cyclops.”

Nikolias snickered and raised his hand to flag their waiter. “You’re the worst.” He glanced over the table, then smiled at Derek. “Want another burger, babe?”

His heart jolted, and he stilled, blinking furiously. The word short-circuited something in his brain, but he managed a nod.

Lucas cooed again and kept eating while Nikolias ordered another round of food and smiled at the waiter, who looked wary. 

“I’ll… need to talk to the manager before I put the order in…”

Nikolias shrugged. “Okay. We’ll be here.” He turned his head and lifted his hand. “Dove! Blake! Great show! Can I buy you dinner?” He paused. “The band, too, obviously.”

They looked at each other nervously. “Uh… well…”

“No pressure if it’s too much.”

Dove, who Derek assumed was the woman based on the black dove on her chest, shuffled forward. “Hi, Nikolias, I…” She cleared her throat. “I actually can’t stay here. The… manager and I have a history.”

Nikolias’ shoulder twitched. “We hadn’t ordered again yet anyway. Wherever you want.” He paused. “That’s open.” He glanced at Derek. “Still hungry?”

Derek nodded. “I’ve got plenty of room.”

“Great! Lucas, take the leftovers. Save some for Willa. Is she picking you up, or do you need a ride?” He lifted up and pulled out his wallet, looking at the waiter. “If you could just run the check? Add whatever Willa and Lucas’ favorites are to the bill to go for him.”

She blinked and glanced at Lucas, who swallowed. “You’re buying us dinner?”

“I’m counting on you to tell your cousin to lighten up in time for summer. I’d like to go island hopping with my friends at least once in this lifetime.”

Lucas nodded. “I’ll put in a good word.” Lucas rattled off several dishes that apparently also had to go through the manager.

“We were… going to go to House of Pies, maybe?” The drummer rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing fancy.”

Nikolias checked his watch. “You attached to that? Can I offer an upgrade to Katz?” He winked at Derek. “Tall deli sandwiches. Better steak on the menu too.”

The bassist looked up dreamily. “I will never say no to a blueberry blintz.”

“Done!” Nikolias grinned. “We’ll follow behind.”

Dove glanced back. Blake took her hand, and Derek had a feeling Nikolias might get into a fight soon.



The drums thundered the moment Dove got close enough. The shimmer of emotions rolling off her shoulders darkened when she mentioned the manager. Blake had this furious red cloud building inches from his skin.

They and their band members dashed out the front door before the manager strutted to the front of the house with a small-dicked, pea-brained saunter. The drifting clouds of malice and deep insecurity pooled and eddied around him when he came to a stop beside the waiter who kept a careful distance.

Nikolias tilted his head, leaning back against his chair. “Are you the manager?”

“I am,” he sneered down at Nikolias. “And you?”

“A customer trying to place a last order and pay.” Nikolias was proud that he didn’t feel the urge to punch the fucker. “June says you’re the man to talk to about it.”

He leaned into June’s space, chest first, hands coming too low to be reaching for the tablet in her hands. Before he could think about it, Nikolias slid between them, towering over the man. 

“Is there a reason you need to be that close to an employee?” Nikolias searched the man’s face. “It’s a rhetorical question. You often invade your employee’s personal space, or do you just make a habit of it with young women?”