He watched the cheerful suburban house from the dark interior of his car, noting the scattered plush toys across the porch. He bet the neighbours had no idea that this seemingly harmless family home housed a terror beyond all imagining.
Said terror was jogging rapidly towards them, an overnight bag slung across his shoulder. Nikolai forced himself to look calm, collected and anywhere but Ian, who clambered back into the SUV and settled in once more. Like he owned the place.
"Thanks for waiting. Should we go now?"
Nodding to Alexei tiredly, Nikolai sighed and glanced at the little demon happily fidgeting with the zipper of his duffel bag.
"That was fast. Let me guess: You had the bag all packed up already because you've seen this coming?"
"What? No? I always keep an emergency overnight bag just in case." Ian seemed genuinely confused, but Nikolai no longer trusted a single word out of his mouth.
"Your parents are not going to have questions about you dashing in for the 'emergency bag' and into a fancy black car? Definitely not suspicious behaviour. You were gone for what, less than five minutes? Not enough time for even a hello."
Ian shrugged. That particular habit was beginning to get on Nikolai's nerves. He gripped his trouser leg discreetly to fight off the urge to throttle him.
"It's fine. They don't really mind whatever I get up to."
Something in the way he said that made Nikolai's rage subside slightly. The tone was his usual neutral ramble, but there was something… resigned in his voice. Detached. Nikolai levelled him with a stare, trying to suss out the inconsistency.
"They are busy with my siblings. I'm a middle child and don't get into trouble as much as they do. So, they forget I exist sometimes." He smiled at Nikolai. "But you already knew all that."
That smile was unfair. The porcelain pale mask, impassive and unsettling, that Ian wore disappeared then, and his features softened, making him look his age at last. For a second he looked like just a teenage boy, talking about personal freedom with a sadness stemming from parental neglect. It was so raw and vulnerable that the whiplash made Nikolai's heart skip a beat. He caught himself staring and turned towards the window, begging his heart to calm down.
"Must be nice. Not being seen."
There was no further response, and they sat quietly in the car for another indeterminate stretch of time. He didn't know if he was happy the little demon was quiet, or upset that he didn't push further. This unsettling bag of feelings was dangerous, as was its main source.
"Why do you hate your power?"
Nikolai should have gotten used to the curveballs, but every time Ian appeared to say the last thing he expected. This was way out of line, but he found himself trying to hide an absurd smirk. He could imagine the kid vibrating in his seat, trying to hold it in and not spoil his mood again, but being unable to hold his curiosity back. Like a cat trying to get its toy out of a burning fireplace.
He turned to him then and answered honestly.
"Because every time I walk into a room, there is not a single person there who doesn't look at me. No matter what I wear, what I do, what I say. They are always watching. I twist their minds and take their agency away. Intentionally or not." He sighed with resignation. "Is it that surprising that I feel like a monster?"
"But… that's not what your power actually does."
Ian was staring again, those dark pools not taking any objections to this apparent fact of nature.
"Oh, really? Well, tell me then, Oh Great Seer. What does my power actually do?"
"It's not the agency you take away; it's their inhibitions."
Nikolai felt all the blood from his body migrate to his feet. That didn't make any sense. What would this kid know about his powers? What he went through all these years? How dare he dismiss his pain and just… just… say that absolute nonsense?!
"It's not that you force them to say or do anything, you see." Ian continued, ignoring his offended expression. "You simply remove all the things that were holding them back from doing or saying what they wanted. Like religious beliefs, societal and moral rules, etcetera. When you walk into the room, you strip away their facade and reveal the real person beneath the mask. Their true, uninhibited self."
The more he talked, the more terrified Nikolai became. This could not possibly be the truth. He lived all his life knowing that every word, every look, every uncontrolled emotional outburst would basically mind-control the people around him. If what Ian said was true, then that meant the filth he had to wade through to make it to the other end was not his unnatural influence, but simply human nature.
"And I think it's beautiful."
He sat for a while, digesting this insane take on the very essence of his being from an omniscient monster by his side. At last he steeled himself; this trip that felt like hours had cemented his conclusions once and for all.
"I don't know why you are telling me these things, nor do I care. I don't like you, and I don't trust you. If you hurt my sister or Dylan, I am going to hurt you right back."
He saw the automatic gate of their new home opening for the car to enter the driveway. Unclipping his seat belt before the car came to a full stop, he leaned over the boy, glaring at him with the most threatening expression he could muster.
"Tread carefully, Ian Thessalas. I will be watching you at all times."
Trapped and at his mercy, Ian smiled dreamily.
"Thank you. I really appreciate it."
***
Watching a six-foot-tall football player in drenched pyjamas sob uncontrollably while clutching the local psychic boy wonder was not on Nikolai's bucket list, but there they were. The last quarter of the hour was a blur of frantic scrambling to keep up with Adam through the woods after Ian dragged them all out of bed and rushed out into the night.
Nastya and Jesse were by Dylan's side, trying to pry Adam's hands away to see the damage and to help them both up. The two boys were both very muddy, and Adam's feet were bleeding profusely from his mad dash. How he managed to clear about a mile in less than six minutes, barefoot and basically blind, Nikolai didn't know. However, his initial dislike of the boy and what he thought was his entitled attitude turned into a quiet respect. Without him, Dylan would most likely have drowned by the time the police found him.
He glanced at the unwelcome companion by his side, the two of them keeping a respectful distance from the group. Ian had none of that calm confidence from their car ride, radiating anxiety instead. He was mumbling to himself, picking at his fingers nervously until they were bleeding, and staring at Dylan. Nikolai came closer.
"...Shouldn't have happened. How did I miss this? Something is wrong…"
"Stop that." Nikolai swatted Ian's hands away from their self-destructive fidgeting and sighed.
"Stop what? Oh." The boy absentmindedly looked at his hands and put them in his pockets. He began to bite his lips instead.
Nikolai studied this version of the little demon, becoming by the second less terrifying and more sad. When he was abruptly woken up by Ian clambering into the room and explaining the situation to the best of his ability, he thought it was yet another ruse. A planned manipulation that just 'had to happen that way', like their meeting earlier that day. But now he wasn't so sure.
"Stop blaming yourself."
"I can see the future. I should have seen this. Stopped this. It is my fault."
"You're not God. You can't possibly see every possible…"
"I can, though. I see them all. All the time. But I didn't see THIS!" Ian's voice rose slightly from his usual quiet monotone, grabbing the attention of the now slowly moving group.
"Stop fighting and come help us! These two sacks of muscle aren't going to drag themselves!" Nastya whistled at her brother, and as a good Pavlov's dog, he obeyed.
"We'll talk later." He whispered to Ian, and they were off.
It took them twice as long to get back, Adam wincing every time he moved and Dylan shivering and weak, having to be propped up. When they entered the mansion, Nastya organised a hot bath, a medkit and a pot of tar black tea in that order. Jesse took direction with a zeal that would make any drill sergeant jealous, and, knowing that Nastya's commands would be obeyed sufficiently, he returned to Ian, sitting at the table with his head in his hands.
In the bright light of the dining room, he looked wrecked. His eyes were bloodshot and slightly glazed over, fingers clutching rhythmically at his short hair as he was mumbling again. Nikolai sat down next to him and noticed he had mud drops on his glasses.
"Hey. What happened?" Nikolai softened his tone, as if talking to a spooked animal, putting aside his distrust for a short while.
"I… I don't know. For the first time, I don't know how this happened." Ian stared at the table surface and sighed. "Every possible branch had his incident in the next five days. Why did it happen now? What did I miss?"
"Wait. Hold on!" Nikolai grabbed his shoulder, turning the boy towards him. "Did you just say you knew Dylan was going to go off into the woods!?"
"He was always going to eventually sleepwalk. But in all the possible scenarios, he had someone to stop him. It wasn't supposed to happen today! Damn it!"
Ian slammed his fist onto the table. He didn't really have much strength behind it, being barely a hundred pounds of skin and bones. He looked at Nikolai with a desperation that tugged at something primal inside him, making him uncomfortable with the desire to soothe the boy.
"Please. You have to believe me! I would never put Dylan in danger of dying! Please!"
"Alright, calm down. I believe you."
He was surprised at the truth of those words himself. Ian's face lit up briefly, a small sigh of relief escaping him unwittingly as his tense muscles relaxed. Nikolai realised he was still holding the boy's shoulder and gently rubbing it with his thumb. He abruptly pulled his hand away.
And not a second too soon, Nastya walked in, now changed out of her soiled nightgown into a new one and drying her hair with a towel.
"Go on, your turn to shower, boys. Don't tread the mud all over the carpets."
Ian nodded tiredly and left the room. Before Nikolai followed, he walked over to his sister, who was now deep in thought by the window. He switched to Russian.
"Are you ok? You look concerned."
"No shit. Dylan almost died."
"That's not what I mean."
She looked up at him, facade of relaxed competence slipping away.
"I warded the room before we went to bed. Salt on the windows and by the doors and a bowl of living water with a silver cross under Dylan's mattress. Also mugwort in the tea."
"Ah, I thought it tasted strange."
"Yeah, well, I made sure you all drank it. Especially Dylan." She frowned, droplets of water dripping from the ends of her long hair onto the wooden floor.
"But nothing worked. I… I don't know what else to do."
Nikolai had seen his sister at a loss for a total of five times during their lifetime. This was the sixth. He pulled her into a hug, ignoring her initial protests that he was still muddy and held her tight. She melted into it, the force of will that was keeping her together while everyone else was falling apart ebbing out of her body as she clutched Nikolai to herself.
"Don't worry. We'll figure it out. Together, this time."
He kissed the top of her head and did the only thing he could for her. Be there when needed.