Will

After introducing Griff and Serene to each other and detailing the role they'd serve the following evening, Will immediately got started on food prep.

There would be a lot of mouths to feed, and food was at a premium these days, so he took care to use every scrap available to them and waste nothing. They had plenty of animal parts to work with since he had been hunting a good deal over the last few days. He boiled much of the meat to preserve as much caloric content as possible. He cooked blood pudding, liver patties, tongues. Some of the less desirable leftovers were turned into sausages, and he even made use of the bones by rendering them down to broth.

He cleared out what was left in the cellars—potatoes, carrots, onions—and had Number Two, Number Four, and Number Five foraging wild vegetables, roots, and berries that all went into side dishes and sauces.

The wheat taking up one of the two crop fields was pretty much ready, but even if they rushed to harvest there would not be enough time to properly dry and process it to make it usable before the party, and as such they left it alone. There were usable herbs and strawberries in Will's own garden, however, that went into the cooking.

Joe Crag, who had arrived with the advance group and brought some of his own foodstuffs from the city, worked alongside Will to get everything ready. This was especially appreciated, since Will neither had working eyes nor a working nose, which made assessing the quality and readiness of most dishes a nightmare.

Even though he and Joe had been friends for so long and they had a Profession in common, this was the first time they had ever done any cooking together. It was strange, but somehow quite nice. Joe had evidently struggled since his tavern was destroyed in the Burning, but Cooks were at a premium these days with food shortages coming on. He had plenty of work to keep him busy cooking for the garrison. Really, it was motivation he lacked. He'd lost everything he had worked long and hard for, and had not yet found a reason to try and rebuild himself.

Joe's hardships were evident on him. He'd lost some weight, and he looked tired. Still, it seemed he enjoyed cooking for the party, which was probably a nice change of pace from preparing whatever bland slop the militia had their people on these days.

Sunny was allowed to help with the cooking here and there, sometimes riding on Will's shoulders and sometimes running around underfoot, and got to taste a few of the dishes so that she could give her official approval. He had to send her out after a while though. Not because she was annoying—even though she was—but because having Sunny in the kitchen inevitably meant suffering ADAM standing around like a great steel scarecrow, glaring holes into everything and generally getting in the way. The robot made no effort to hide the fact that he disliked and distrusted Will especially, probably because the little girl seemed to like Will best.

Once the both of them were busying themselves elsewhere, work progressed more smoothly. Will included Serene in a few minor tasks. She had no experience in the kitchen, but he wanted her to learn so that he could eventually graduate her to poisons. He figured branching her into Cook at Level 10 would probably be a good idea.

Those who had arrived early were given some less desirable rations for dinner that night—light in terms of volume, but Prepared so that they would be filling enough. All the good stuff would be saved for the following day. The especially perishable dishes, including desserts and such, were Preserved by Joe so that they would not spoil.

All that cooking got Will to Level 17 in the late afternoon, when he was getting ready to wrap up. Joe would be continuing into the night with Serene to assist, but Will was starting to suffer extreme fatigue and bouts of vertigo from pushing his body too hard, and Joe forced him to take the night off once it became bad enough that Will couldn't completely conceal the symptoms.

Sam came running once she caught wind of it, her protective mother hen side flaring to the maximum, and reamed him out while physically carrying him off to rest.

Seated in a chair on the farmhouse porch beside Sam, Will tried to take the conversation away from the disgusting weakness of his body by telling her about his level increase.

"That's great!" she said about the news. "So, um, what is it you're getting for this one again?"

"An upgrade point."

"Ooh, I seeeee… What are you gonna spend it on?"

"I'll be saving it for a while."

"What for?"

"It's not important right now."

"C'mon, tell me!"

"I'll tell you about it later. This isn't really the time."

Sam was quiet for a while. Will had accumulated too much skill fatigue to use Detect, so he couldn't make out her face. He could make out distant voices, people making conversation around cook fires and inside tents dotted downslope around the property.

"Why can't you just tell me?" she asked after a while, and he felt a twinge of guilt at the obvious hurt in her voice. "You've been keeping so many secrets lately, and I feel like you're comfortable telling everyone but me. Am I really that untrustworthy to you?"

"It's not like that, and you know it," Will argued, but there was no force behind his words. He wished he hadn't brought up his level increase at all. "I just… want to protect you. There are some things you're better off not knowing."

"It's an upgrade point, Will! How fucking sinister could it possibly be?" She was getting animated, speaking loud enough for her voice to echo out over the yard. He could hear some of the nearby conversations quieting as people tried to listen in. "Don't I have the right to know some of these things?" she went on. "You asked me to save a point too, so what's that about? You can't honestly tell me that's none of my business. I know you've been through a lot and I don't want to put more on you, but I'm starting to feel really bummed out over all this."

Will chewed on the inside of his cheek, right hand twitching on the armrest of the chair. "You're right," he said slowly. "I've been secretive, and you do deserve to know. I just wanted to keep you away from things that I know would bother you, but if you really want to hear about it, I'll tell you." He kept his voice gentle and quiet, hoping it would influence her to follow suit. "Ask me about anything that's bothering you—just, please let's leave the upgrade points for later. Anything else, I'll tell you."

"What? Why can't we talk about that?"

Will sighed deeply. "It's just part of a bigger discussion, that's all. It's best if we have the discussion another time, once the party's over and we don't have to worry about that and everything surrounding it."

"And that's another thing!" Sam shot back. "You haven't even told me why you're throwing this damn party in the first place!"

"It's a belated Midsummer celebration, that's all. A bit of a break for people after everything that's happened."

"Bull-fucking-shit! You hate celebrations! For you of all people to throw a party, you must have some special kind of fuckery in mind."

"If you want to talk about it, we'll talk. But let's do it in private, yeah?"

"Fine! Good!" she retorted. It was clear from her tone that she was trying to hold onto her outrage even though he was giving her what she wanted, which was kind of cute more than anything.

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Sam guided him away from the farmhouse and out to the north edge of the property behind his workshop, far away from any other people. He leaned back against the cool stone wall, comforted by having something solid to hold onto when he was left in darkness without his Detect sense.

"So?" Sam asked impatiently once they were alone. He could make out the faint, rhythmic thump of her foot tapping the ground.

"The party is to inform everyone about the Omen Bearers, lay out a strategy to counter them, and flush out spies," Will said. "I didn't think you were a good enough liar to keep some of the specifics to yourself, which is why I didn't tell you right away."

"Oh. Okay." She sounded a bit disappointed that it wasn't anything juicier. "And the—"

"The upgrade points are a different story. It's… before we talk about that, there's another thing I need to tell you first. Now definitely isn't the time for it, which is why I want to do it later. I hope you can trust me that I know what's best for you here, but if you really want to know, I'll tell you."

"Tell me," Sam said immediately.

Will sighed, fished out a cigarette to put between his lips, and struck a match off the rough stone behind him to light it. He took a long inhale of smoke, then let it out through his nostrils. "It's about your dad."

Sam's foot-tapping ceased instantly. Shocked silence followed. Once it had dragged out for almost a minute and it became clear that she wasn't about to say anything, Will added: "Still want me to go on?"

Silence. Then, weakly, Sam said: "Yes."

Will took another drag off his cigarette "He's here, Sam. On the Frontier."

She was silent. He waited.

When he was almost at the end of his cigarette, she said: "That's not true. He's still alive on Earth. I know he is."

"He isn't."

"How would you know?" She sounded accusatory; panicked.

"Because I killed him, Sam."

He wished he could see her; gauge her expression. Instead, he was forced to suffer with the silence, straining for the soft sound of grass rustling in case she just decided to walk away.

"You… killed him?"

"Yup."

"That can't be true. Will, I know you've got a shitty sense of humor, but you need to stop joking around."

"Not joking. Cross my heart." He ground his cigarette out against the wall and flicked the butt away. "This isn't how I wanted to tell you, but there it is."

"You really killed him? Like, killed killed?"

"I caved his skull in, cut his throat, and dumped him in a bog, so yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I know what he was doing to you and your mom."

She went quiet again. Then: "He never abused us."

Will couldn't help but laugh. "Not with his fists, maybe. He was too smart for that."

"I…"

"You know what he did, Sam. Don't excuse it. He was a monster—still is, unfortunately."

"Yeah, but… you killed him? Why would you do that?"

He wanted to get out another smoke to calm some of his nervous energy, but held himself back. "Because I knew you were thinking about it. I knew if I didn't do anything, either you'd end up killing him yourself, or you'd let him keep twisting you and your mom's lives until there was nothing left of you."

Sam said nothing to that. She didn't refute that she had wanted to kill him, which was good, because Will knew he was right.

"I was already sick by then, so I made a choice. What did it matter if I blackened my soul a little? I was going to die anyway. And before you ask—no, I don't regret it. The Frontier has plenty of demons, but I've only ever met one devil, and his name is Jack Darling."

"B-But…" Sam stuttered. "No. He didn't die. He left. He's not dead."

"I made it look that way," Will corrected. "I got him out in the middle of nowhere by blackmailing him with evidence I'd collected of his embezzling and a few of his affairs." Will chuckled joylessly. "You know what's funny? The only part he cared about was the embezzling since it would get him in legal trouble. He couldn't give a shit about the women he fucked. Didn't care if your mom found out."

"She wouldn't have left him even if she did," Sam said weakly.

"Of course she wouldn't have," Will agreed. "He probably would have found some way to convince her it was all her fault in the first place. Well, anyway, your dad probably thought he was going to pay me off to lose the evidence or something, but I guess he never expected that I might be just as psychotic as he is. So, down a bog he went, and I made sure everyone thought he'd skipped town. Good thing your dad was enough of a bastard that it didn't take much to convince people." He let that hang for a while, then said with a clipped laugh: "So that's how I earned my ticket here. Murder. Fitting, isn't it? Considering what I became."

"I don't know what to say," Sam replied after a while. "You really killed him?"

"Yes, Sam, I really killed him."

"But how could you know he's here? Have you met him?"

"No, I haven't. But I know the stories. Have you heard of the man they call the Nightmare King?"

Sam swallowed loud enough for him to hear. "Yeah, kinda. He's a bad guy or something."

"Pretty much. Well, that's your dear ol' dad. I know the stories they tell about him, and they match up perfectly with some shit he'd do. That, and the name Jack Darling is known in certain circles. He used it briefly before coming up with his whole 'Nightmare King' gimmick."

"No," she breathed. "This can't be real."

"I'm sorry, Sam. But yes."

"No! You don't…" She was breathing rapidly, sounding like she was on the verge of a panic attack. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen to me, Sam. I'm telling the truth. I understand that you're angry. You can take it out on me if you want. Bastard or not, I know I did something unforgivable to a member of your family. You have every right to hate me."

Will braced for a punch, heart hammering since he knew Sam could probably turn his head into a fine mist if she wanted to. Instead, he quickly found himself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms. Despite the pain it sent shooting along his stomach and right shoulder, he slowly forced his body to ease up.

Sam hugged him tightly and cried on his shoulder while he stroked her head and tried to offer words of comfort, though he wasn't sure if anything he said was really all that helpful. She was like that for a while—sometimes sobbing violently, sometimes just silently shaking.

They were like that for a good while. Then, quite abruptly, she wiped her nose on his shoulder and took a step back, finally allowing him to suck in a full breath for the first time in what felt like forever.

"My dad, he's… some kind of powerful person, right?" she asked hesitantly. "I think I remember Mongrel saying he was an emperor or something."

"Calling him an 'emperor' might be slightly generous, but yeah. He's a Level 30, and he's in control of Octant Five and Octant Seven, so politically speaking I guess you might call him the most powerful man on the Frontier."

"Could he hurt us? Could he come here?"

"I… don't know," Will said honestly, hating that he couldn't give her a better answer. "He's definitely got the manpower to take Sheerhome, maybe even all of Octant Six if he really wanted to, but that would mean stretching himself thin inside the territories already under his control, so I don't see why he would do that.

"It's always possible he might send someone after you if he finds out you're here, but I've never had trouble from him even though I've been using my real name and haven't exactly been keeping a low profile lately. Considering the kind of guy your dad is, you'd think he'd want revenge against his murderer, so either he doesn't have any ears in Sheerhome or he just doesn't care about the people from his previous life.

"Either way, I think everything will be all right. If you want to be extra safe, just try not to use your real name that much in public settings from now on. Superheroes always have secret identities anyway, right?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed. Her voice was still croaky from all the crying, but she seemed to have calmed down some. After a while, she added: "Thanks."

"For what?"

A pause. "For… doing what you did. Killing him." She sniffled loudly and let out a shaky sigh. "You're right. If you hadn't, I would have done it. For Mom." She let out a low, almost hysteric laugh. "In the end, she killed herself anyway once he disappeared, so I guess there was no way to save her. He had his hooks in too deep."

"I'm sorry." He wished there were some other comfort he could offer, but what was there to say? In the end, he settled for: "She was a good woman."

"The best."

Will nodded. He sucked on his teeth, trying to line up his words, then said: "So you're really not mad about what I did?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I mean, I'm a little angry. But for you, not at you. I'm sorry that… my dad was such a piece of shit that you had to do what you did. It feels awful saying it, but… if it wasn't for the fact that he ended up here, I'd be glad he died. If there's one person who deserves a painful death, it's him."

Will couldn't help but laugh. "Those were my thoughts exactly." Still, it did make him feel all weird inside, hearing Sam talk about someone's death—no matter whose—with such callous disregard. He really had expected her to take this harder.

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