sakon76

Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 24th November 2021

The first text came in just as Jim was getting ready for bed. He pulled his pajama top over his head and picked up his phone, thumbing it on and checking his messages.

/accident at work,/ Douxie had sent. /used magic didnt think everyone saw/

Another text came in as Jim read the first: /its probably on internet by now/

Then another text, this one a string of incoherent characters.

Jim hit callback immediately.

The phone rang and rang, to no answer. "Hey," Douxie said on his voicemail message. "If you meant to reach me--"

Jim hung up and called again.

Voicemail.

He called again.

This time the phone was answered, but it was Archie who spoke. "He's having a panic attack," the dragon reported testily. "Please stop calling so I can help him through it."

"Where are you?" Jim demanded. "Are you still at the cafe?"

"Yes," Archie reported curtly. "Don't come down here. You'll only make it worse. Stay where you are, and I'll call you if we need you."

The line went dead. Jim's fingers clenched on his phone.

"Fuck," he said.

"Breathe, Douxie," Archie instructed. His familiar nodded, shaking, sitting curled up against the wall, his hands in his hair, trying desperately to calm himself.

This was, perhaps, not the biggest disaster Archie had seen Douxie accidentally instigate with his magic. But it was definitely within the top five.

Perhaps the top two.

All right, with the advent of modern technology, the instant dissemination of information, and the fact that their commitment to saving the world meant they couldn't just pack up and vanish the way they always had before....

...All right, he admitted to himself, this was bad.

"Do you want to leave the cafe?" he asked his familiar.

And Douxie looked up at him, and Archie could see in his eyes that he really, really wanted to answer yes, to sneak out the back door and run.

But then his responsibilities settled over Hisirdoux again like a cloud or a cape, and he shook his head. "Can't," he managed. "We're short-handed already, I can't just skive off--"

"All right," said Archibald, and thought for a second. Then he smiled at Douxie. "Shall we give them the old razzle-dazzle?"

Douxie looked at him, questions writ large across his face.

Archie smirked, and transformed into an exact double of his familiar.

Douxie stared at him for a moment, then slowly began to smile.

"You take tables seven through nine," Archie told him. "I've got ten through twelve."

Jorge poked his head around the corner. "Douxie, your orders are up--" the chef started to tell him, but his voice died as he saw the two Douxies.

"Thank you, we'll be right there," Archie told him, then proceeded to ignore the wide-eyed stare in favor of focusing on his familiar. "Can you do this?" he asked Douxie.

Douxie drew in a long breath. It still shuddered, but was better than a minute before. "Got to, don't I?" he asked.

Overwhelmed with affection for his familiar, Archie bumped their foreheads together. "We can do anything," he whispered, "together."

Douxie smiled again, a real smile this time. "We can. Thanks, Arch."

The waitstaff at Benoit's largely considered the outdoor tables the worst to wait upon. They were farthest from the kitchens, and to get to them you had traipse past the bar, the sofas, and all the indoor tables, finally going out through the door. Depending on the time of year, that meant frequent temperature jumps up and down as you went in and out of the air conditioning, the food and drink on the trays getting cooler or warmer, whichever was worse, and subsequently lousier tips. If the customers outdoors even bothered to tip. Worst of all, it was easiest for people to slip away there, without ever paying their bill. Not that it happened too often... but it was still often enough that each of the staff had gotten hit by the phenomenon at least once.

Tonight, Douxie was almost glad he was working the outdoor tables. Sure, he and Archie still had to go back and forth through the dining room, drawing stares each time both from the diners and his coworkers (who knew he didn't have a twin), but no one seated outdoors seemed to have noticed his little unfortunate light show.

He'd have done the same thing again, he knew, if conscious choice were to be involved. But he'd have tried to arrange things more discreetly.

For now, though, he was putting on the absolute best of his acting skills and pretending like nothing had happened. Or that he was too busy with turnaround to answer any of the pending questions from the rest of the staff.

As tables turned over and indoor customers left, he and Archie managed to avoid being cornered by them either. Slowly, slowly the crowd thinned out. Once it was dead enough, Archie slipped away and discreetly shifted back to his usual feline form.

And eventually there was nothing left to do but to flip the neon sign from OPEN to NOPE, clean up the outdoor seating area, and go inside to close up for the night.

Where, as he'd known they would be, his coworkers were waiting for him, questions at the ready.

"Doux--"

"I have magic," he said flatly. "I have since I was five, and I'd rather not be bothered about it, if you don't mind."

Clearly, no one had expected him to be that blunt. He hadn't really expected himself to, either, but... the die had been cast, and the Rubicon crossed. There was no going back.

"Magic's... real?" Sheree asked.

Douxie let witchlight gather at his fingertips. "You tell me."

"Madre de Dios," Carlos said, crossing himself.

Gabe, though, looked troubled. "Why didn't you ever tell us, Doux?"

Douxie let the light die away. He gave Gabe a small, sad smile. "Do you know what happens to people like me, Gabe?"

Gabe shook his head.

"We get burned at the stake," Douxie told him very softly. "Or drowned, or pressed, or murdered in any number of interestingly creative ways. Though nowadays, I suppose, I'm more likely to be picked up by Area 49-B."

Brian scoffed. "Area 49-B's a myth."

Douxie looked at him. At all of his coworkers who didn't have any memory of Colonel Kubritz's repeated attempts at terrorizing Arcadia Oaks into giving up the Tarron siblings. "Are you absolutely positive?" he asked quietly. "Because I personally know people who've been held in 49-B. They didn't describe it as a destination vacation."

He watched as that sunk in. As the chefs and dishwashers and waiters and the assistant manager all actually processed that magic was real, and that conspiracy theories were too. That the world was a lot bigger, and wilder, and more frightening than they'd ever been led to believe.

"Shit," Sheree said, her eyes going wide. "All those cellphones... the footage is probably all over social media by now. Youtube."

Douxie nodded. "Unfortunately."

Jim was not in bed when Douxie got back. He was, instead, sitting in the living room, practically every single light on the house turned on.

His amulet was in his hands, being turned over and over and over again as every second made him wonder if he should armor up, get on his Vespa, and ride in to downtown. If he ought to ignore Archie's commands and put himself between each and every single stupid, ignorant person who would hurt his brother--

Jim tried to calm himself, and breathe.

Douxie was a wizard and Archie was a dragon. They could handle themselves. Archie would die before he let anyone hurt Douxie.

They weren't that late yet....

Jim's fingers dug into his palm, nails leaving red crescent marks.

The crystal necklace hadn't flared. He had to hold onto that. That whatever Douxie had gotten up to, it was nothing he thought he needed rescuing from.

Douxie hadn't thought he needed rescuing from Merlin sealing him away. His judgement when it came to his own being in danger was clearly shit.

Jim stood, and took a step toward the garage.

The front door opened, bringing him up short, and Douxie walked in, skateboard in hand.

The three of them ended up at the dining table, cups of steaming tea between them. Hisirdoux picked up his, letting it warm his hands, and savored the fragrance.

"It's very gallant of you," he finally said, "to want to run off and defend me against all danger. But that's not actually necessary."

"Doux. It's not funny."

He relented in his teasing. "You're right," he said. "It's not. But nonetheless, I'll point out that the danger is in the future - not tonight."

Jim raised his eyebrows, questioning.

Douxie sighed and set down his cup. "No one was going to try to murder me for magic tonight. There was too much shock, and too many witnesses. Those who will spontaneously kill in front of a watching crowd are, thankfully, very rare individuals."

"The problem will come in a few days, or weeks," Archie agreed, "when people start talking, and thinking, and realizing there's something for them to be afraid of."

"When people in high places have analyzed the videos and come to a realization that they're not CG fakes," Douxie agreed.

Jim took that, clearly thought about it, and nodded. "Was this... part of your plan?" he asked. "The one to reveal magic to the world."

Douxie snorted and took his cup up again. "You say that like I ever had an actual plan."

"You did talk it over with Zoe," Archie pointed out.

Douxie's mouth thinned to a line at the reminder of his friend. "That was a very short conversation, concluding with her both questioning and disparaging my sanity," Hisirdoux reminded his familiar. He sighed. "No, Jim. The idea of revealing magic to the word... that one fell by the wayside for lack of support."

"But it was a good plan," Jim argued.

Douxie shook his head and looked into his cup, wishing time itself lent itself to his view. Wishing he had Merlin's time map and could use it to sort through all the possibilities, guiding them to the best one. Wishing he could keep himself from screwing up time and time again. "A good plan doesn't mean anything if you can't execute it. And Zoe made it very clear that no one would do it, not her, not HexTech... not anyone we knew. We're all too afraid to come out of hiding."

"But you did."

"I kept my coworker from bashing his head open on a table and possibly dying in the ER," Douxie said softly. "That's not being unafraid. That's acting on instinct."

"Hey." Jim reached across the table to him. "Instinct's kept us all alive so far."

Douxie gave him a wan smile. "Let's pray that trend continues."

"In any case," Archie said. "Don't you have school in the morning, Jim?"

Who groaned. "Don't remind me."

Douxie eyed his cup. "At least tell me that's decaf."

"Yes, I'm having white tea," Jim retorted. "And this isn't about me. This is about you, and what we can do to keep you safe."

Douxie shrugged. "Pretty much nothing, I'm afraid."

"What?" Jim glared.

"I can't alter the memories of everyone who was there," Douxie pointed out reasonably. "And I haven't the skill to vanish all copies of the video off the internet."

"What about Zoe?" Jim asked. "Could she do it?"

Douxie winced, flinching.

Jim went very still. "Douxie. What aren't you telling me?"

HexTech was one of the few shops in Arcadia Oaks that genuinely was open 24/7/365. Something about, Zoe had once told Hisirdoux, the fact that they'd wanted to offer succour to anyone who needed it, any time they needed it. Whether that was a lobby for someone homeless to warm up or cool down in, or a rescue for a mage in need of a hiding place. Douxie had taken advantage of that open offer once, in a future that would hopefully no longer come to pass.

So he had been taken aback earlier this evening when, after his shift at the cafe ended, Zoe had looked at him across the empty HexTech lobby and said flatly, "Get out."

"Zo--"

"Do you know what you've done, Casperan?" she demanded, stalking out from behind the counter and crossing the room to him. Her blue eyes were steel with anger. "Your little stunt at the cafe has gone viral already. We can't shut it down, we can't take it offline. You have actively endangered every single mage in this city, and maybe on this whole planet. You are banned from HexTech. And you'd better pray none of us come across you in an empty place, because every single one of my coworkers wants you dead."

His mouth opened and closed silently.

Zoe was shaking with fury. "How could you be so stupid? Are you trying to wreck every scrap of safety we've got? When they come for you--and they will--you'd better not give them anything. Because if you do, we're all dead, not just you."

Archie transformed and leapt up onto Douxie's shoulder, flaring his wings and snarling. "Back off, Ashildr," he growled at her, baring teeth. "I've already gotten him through one panic attack tonight. If you cause another, I will gut you. Literally," he said, splaying claws. "Then you won't have to worry about anyone coming for you," he spat spitefully.

"Arch," Douxie said softly.

Archibald subsided, barely. He was still growling.

Douxie looked at the pink-haired witch who was his second-oldest friend. He'd known her longer than anyone but Archie and Merlin. The latter of whom wasn't speaking to him anymore either, for entirely different reasons.

He saw nothing but rage and fear in Zoe's face. No trace of their usual long-held mutual affection. No respect as a fellow worker of the craft. Not even any fellow human well-feeling.

He wondered if, in saving one friend, he had somehow managed to lose another.

"My apologies, my lady," he said softly, and wondered why he couldn't feel the pain. "I shall no longer darken your doorstep."

With a bow, he turned to go.

There was a soft noise behind him.

He turned to look.

Zoe's expression was torn. There were tears in her eyes. But when she saw him looking, her lips compressed into a line and she shook her head. She turned away and walked off to the counter.

She did not look back.

"HexTech can't help," Douxie told Jim softly. "The videos have already gone viral, and they can't contain it."

"They've banned Douxie from the premises, and effectively excommunicated him from the local mages' community as well," said Archie.

Douxie had to give a laugh at his familiar's phrasing. "Who knew witches and wizards could be so Catholic?" he asked bitterly. Then he reined that in. "No, it's fair enough. I've endangered them all."

"Even Zoe?" Jim asked.

Douxie nodded.

"But... you're in that band together," Jim protested.

Douxie sighed. "Not anymore, I suspect," he murmured, and that... that, he admit, hurt. "If it comes down to Zoe or me... well. Gil and Marti will find me far easier to replace. To find a guitarist who can sing on all the songs, not just half of them." He drew a shaky breath. "Zoe gets ADP. It'll be easier that way."

"You founded the band," Archie protested. "You named it. You've written half the songs."

Douxie waved it off. "Bands lose founding members all the time."

Jim just looked at him for a minute, expression appalled. Then he finally spoke.

"No," he said.

"Jim--"

But Jim wasn't done. "They don't get to kick you out and take away your band," Jim said, radiance and glory and divine kingship gathering around him like a thunderstorm, "just because you saved someone's life. They don't get to hurt you for being kind, and being a decent human being."

Douxie could only watch, almost frozen in place, heart in his throat, as the boy he counted as a brother stood, inexorable, unstoppable, and moved toward the door, Excalibur ghosting to life in his hand.

"Jim--" His voice was a breath, unheard, and not for the first time in his life, Hisirdoux understood why divine kings were beings to be feared.

Jim was going to kill people. For him. Convinced of his own righteousness. And Douxie couldn't stop him. No one would be able to stop him. No one.

No one had been able to stop Arthur, until he'd profaned his blade with the blood of his own sister.

"Jim," Douxie tried again, as his hand was on the doorknob, "stop. Please."

It was barely a whisper, but it caught Jim's attention. He paused. He looked back.

Douxie was still frozen, immobilized by the weight of unchecked divine power bearing down all around him, but he could at least speak now. He licked his lips, knowing he had one shot, and one shot only.

"You're better than this," he said.

They were somehow the right words, the ones Jim needed to hear, as Jim flinched. The oppressive power around him shattered, fading away, like mist dissipating when the sun came out. Excalibur vanished.

Douxie could move and breathe again. Slowly, he pushed back from the table and stood. Walked over to Jim, making no sudden moves, telegraphing everything he did. Because Jim was wide-eyed now, with the front edge of panic setting in as he realized what he'd almost done.

Carefully, Douxie draped his arms around his brother, touching their foreheads together. "You're not wrong to be angry on my behalf," he said, hearing Archie come up behind himself. "But you don't get to take your anger out on scared people, either. You're better than that, Jim, and all of us know it."

"Douxie--" Jim's hands clutched at his hoodie.

"It's a heady power, isn't it?" Douxie asked softly. "It makes everything seem so easy, so clear, doesn't it?"

"Y-yeah," Jim breathed. He was shaking.

"You can use it for immense good, Jim. But the trick is, it will want to run away with you. And you're a man of action already, so you're susceptible to that."

Jim's breath shuddered.

"And coming out of it's feeling like a massive adrenaline crash right now, isn't it?"

Jim nodded.

Douxie didn't let go. "I'll tell you the same thing I've told every young wizard I've ever shown the ropes. You need to rule your power. You cannot let your power rule you."

Jim bit his lip, nodded again. "I almost...."

"You almost," Douxie agreed. "But," he said softly, "you didn't. Hold to that, Jim. Hold to it as hard as you can, because it's equally true."

Jim was shivering like a leaf in a winter's storm. But he bit his lip and nodded.

"I think," said Archie softly, "that we should all turn in. It's late, and nothing is going to get resolved for any of us tonight."

After a minute, Jim nodded.

And if the three of them ended up heaped on one bed again in the darkness, each wide-eyed and unable to sleep for a different reason... that was nobody's business.