undergrounds | Five Years Later...

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A lot can change in five years. Students who were at Redbright have now started their careers. People have moved out, moved in, started a new life together or apart. Some move on from the city while others return to it. But while the lives of its residents continue to grow and change, London remains as it has ever been: a focal point for magical power.

A tentative peace
The last five years have not been without conflict, both internal and external. The vampires have played with the politics of in-fighting and backstabbing. The werewolves have overthrown their leader and chosen a new alpha. The witches have suffered one scandal after another. And the fae have quietly engineered a small change here, a personal revenge there, until finally with Redbright and Hillingdon acting as neutral parties a peace agreement was reached between Circle Daybreak, the Islington Nest and the East End Pack. Their territories are still beholden to the same rules (e.g. vampires are still forbidden to enter East End territory and vice versa) but they are no longer in open conflict. Small steps, perhaps, but positive ones.

A delicate balance
The year is 2022. The balance of power in the city is now evenly split between the East End Pack, Islington Nest and Circle Daybreak, thanks largely to the rise of the werewolves and the new President Laura Roslin who simultaneously holds the post of Werewolf Representative.

Samantha Okeke lost her position as Witch Representative following allegations of corruption, and has been replaced by Diphylleia "Dee" Absin, a much more co-operative member of the Night Council. While Samantha has retained her title of Mother of Witches, there are rumours that she lost her powers during a confrontation with a powerful fae. Circle Daybreak firmly denies all such speculation.

The connections between the Redbright Institute and the Hillingdon Clan have grown stronger since the former is now perceived to be a more neutral force rather than tied to the Night Council, although Hillingdon certainly still has the less clean-cut image of the two.

Meanwhile, the Seelie and Unseelie Court have largely withdrawn from public life in the mortal realm except in isolated corners, though they claim the right to go where they please throughout the city. Consequently, there are no barriers preventing travel between the realms, which seems for now to be an acceptable compromise.

And after all, politics is the art of compromise.

Looking ahead
All in all, the vampire and fae presence in the city has reduced as the vampires move around and the fae decide that if they're invited it can't be that great a party anyway. The number of witches has recovered thanks to an amnesty allowing those who were once members of Circle Midnight to return (though the faction itself has not reappeared).

The biggest change that has been noticed first by staff at the Redbright Institute however is the increasing number of meta humans, in particular young meta humans, being discovered in the city. Often these are humans with no knowledge of the supernatural developing their powers for the first time. The reason why has yet to be discovered...

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Eames scoffs. He doesn't have the energy to tell her she's wrong and what a fucking idiot she was to do this in the first place, so a scoff and a roll of his eyes will have to suffice on the first point. He's not about to sit here and reassure her that being a dumbass doesn't mean she deserves this, if she doesn't know it then she doesn't know it.

"And you thought, what? He'd curl up in a ball and listen patiently? Has he ever, in the years you've known him, sat and waited calmly for an explanation from you when he's mad?" Eames pauses all of a moment, quickly deciding he doesn't need an answer to that question when he's fairly certain he already knows the answer. "He's weaker not docile. Do you have any idea how lucky you are you're even alive right now?"

This time he waits for an answer, though Eames expects he won't like the one he gets, if he gets one at all.

Nancy closes her eyes again, praying she'll be swallowed up by the hospital bed. She knows why he's here- she doesn't care how he knows she's in here, but if she gives the subject any thought, she'll assume it's one of his many contacts. Or maybe he has some sort of special alarm that went off whenever she was in mortal danger.

Each question gets a sob from her, until she's raising her hand to try to wipe at her tears. It's useless, only irritating the stitches in her lip and eyebrow.

She hangs her head, ginger hair falling in limp curls around her. It hurts so much right now, to cry, to breathe, to be alive. Gods forgive her, she would have been better off dead. Carefully, she brings knees up to her chest, trying not to put too much pressure. What she needs- what she wants right now is the opposite of everything Eames is giving her.

"He's always been docile with me- god- I was going to name him after you-" the baby, if it had been a boy, William Eames Sikes, she'd already had it figured out. If it was a girl- she hadn't gotten that far. "I should be dead- I know it." And she found herself wishing she were.

Maybe it's not what she wants, but it's what Eames has got. His compassion has always been a limited resource, and this insanely stupid decision of Nancy's has Eames tapped out. He practically laughs, a sharp noise of disbelief at the words coming out of Nancy's mouth.

"He was docile with you, was he?" Eames shakes his head, it's a struggle not to just tell her she sounds stupid and delusional, but he just about manages it. Working his jaw harshly, "did you forget why you left him in the first place, or are you just that fucking delusional that you think years of being brutalised is fine because he loved you?"

Well, he stopped himself from saying half of it at least. But judging by the look on his face? That's a question Eames fully expects an answer to.

Nancy's head cannot possibly hang any lower. She doesn't want Eames here anymore, not if he's going to yell, going to hate her for something when all she wanted was a warm pair of arms around her.

But it was clear now she'll never get it from Eames. not today, anyway.

She takes a slow, rattling breath, her ribs aching with the gesture. "I- isn't it? when he's done all he has for me-- I knew you'd never understand- no one does. how can you, when you weren't there? when you didn't give a shit what was going on with us the moment the door closed." she lashes out, if she's not getting her sympathy then she wants him gone.

"Bill cared. and he put a stop to it. More'n you."

"Oh, I had no idea kissing you inbetween forcing you out on the streets and having you steal to get by was 'putting a stop to it'. My mistake."

He's not rattled by her lashing out, the only person in here who's ever been under any illusions as to the nature of his character is Nancy. It's not like Eames reached out to her out of kindness, it was because she was a resource Fagin squandered, and he never hid that from her either.

"So why don't you enlighten me? Between the beatings and dragging you down to his level, convincing you you're nothing because he was too in love with being angry and resentful to be better, what did he do for you, hm? Because from here it looks like you went from one Fagin to another."

Maybe it's low of him to say, Eames doesn't care. Never once does he raise his voice, instead taking a tone that's low and pointed. It's a skill; he knows how to use his words, how to make someone feel good and how to hurt them.

It's not like he's lying anyway.

"I told you!" Nancy snaps, not caring how badly it hurts her throat to argue with him, she's going to do it. "You don't know nothing about our relationship. You wouldn't understand- but he saved me." She laughed, low and hysterical.

"He hated me on the street- hated it! He's always been selfish- wanted me to himself. Didn't like the way Fagin touched me. He hates the devil as much as anyone I know."

Her green eyes narrow even more. "Shut up! shut up! you don't know anything! Bill's never been like Fagin- ever!" She thrusts a finger at Eames and behind him the glass in one of the boring serene paintings in her hospital room cracks, spidering up and out.

"I lost my child! And you can't even spare a moment to let me tell you! My child! and you- you-, you-!" she can't finish, breaking down into loud, broken sobs.

"Mm, that's why you were back out there as soon as he was out of prison, was it?"

Sure. Whatever. Eames is done with this. He shakes his head and stands from his seat to leave, "I should've done something sooner, tgen you wouldn't be here like this."

"He let me leave when he saw what I made at the shop!" It had been messy, truthfully. Bill had had a few words with Daryl and then again with Nancy. He didn't trust her friends.

"Wait!" Nancy stretches an arm out to him. "Don't go! please!" she needed someone here. someone soft and loving. "stay with me. Please- I don't want to be alone."

Fine. He was wrong about that. Eames would concede that point verbally if he wasn't about to leave to kill a man.

But, on the other hand, Nancy's not going to want to talk to him after that. Probably not ever again. And it's not enough to change his mind, but it's enough to make him hesitate and consider if it has to happen right this second.

"Move over." He comes over to sit with her, until she falls back asleep at least.

Nancy offers a small smile, tears still spilling down her swollen face.

"I'm sorry," she tells Eames softly, moving so that he can slide into the bed with her. If Bill saw them, they'd both be dead.

"I love him- even when it's wrong. I can't help it. And all my life, I know it'll be true. I don't want anyone but him. I'm so sorry." She was a disappointment. and now she didn't know what she'd do when she was released. Go back home with her tail between her legs, without another word about leaving or babies or anything.

Her hand is still on her stomach.

He doesn't comment, just silently puts an arm around her to hold her for a while. Eames sighs softly and makes a gentle shushing sound, trying to soothe her enough to get some real sleep.

Once Eames is next to her and Nancy is wrapped comfortably next to him, she settles slightly. Her breathing is labored and there are all sorts of tunes to dance around but it's as comfortable as they can get.

He shushes her, and for once Nancy listens. She closes her heavy eyes and let's exhaustion take over. when she wakes up, everything will be okay. Right?

Five Years Later...

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