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Heart and Tender
Part Three
*****
Brendon almost expects to be burnt when he picks up Ryan's heart the next morning. He sits cross-legged in front of it for a few seconds, watching the swirls of orange and smoky red, and considers using gloves or something to handle it before he decides to just grab the heart and stick it in his backpack. Nothing happens- not even the slight warmth of Sandra's heart- and Brendon zips his backpack firmly and tells himself not to worry about experiences that are more like dreams anyways.
He brings the heart to school with him because he's less afraid of anyone at school finding out than leaving it unattended at home with his mom. Maybe it's lucky that Brendon doesn't have any friends at school that might open his backpack looking for a piece of gum or an extra pencil, because then he'd have some questions to creatively evade. Brendon's not sure if he really considers that lucky though.
The heart's too big to be completely inconspicuous, but at least Brendon doesn't attract very much attention on his own (despite his best efforts) and no one asks him about it. The heart bulges out one side of his backpack and makes it a little harder to worm through crowded hallways because he keeps hitting people with the hard lump. He gets more than a few dirty looks and one girl clutches her arm like he's seriously wounded her and Brendon makes a vague, apologetic motion with his hands before ducking into his math class.
He gets a weird look from the girl sitting next to him when his backpack clinks against the floor, and Brendon winces even though he knows hearts can't break. He slumps down in his chair, fiddles with a pencil, tries to look as uninteresting as possible. But when he unzips his backpack to get his calculator and paper, the heart rolls out and across the floor and Brendon's pretty sure his own heart stops.
It rolls a few feet away before stopping against the leg of a desk, getting a few curious looks before Brendon pushes his chair away and grabs the heart. He puts it away quickly and then hunches over his desk defensively. Other than those initial looks, there's no reaction from most of his classmates but Brendon's pulse is thumping wildly in his temples.
He's never had to worry before about someone finding out about the hearts. His mom had unzipped his backpack to put his lunch in the day that Brendon was returning Rachel's heart but luckily his sweatshirt was covering most of the jar. Still, Brendon had thought he might throw up just from the adrenaline and dread.
Now he's just suspicious, because surely one of his classmates recognized the heart for what it was. But no one's paying attention to him and for once in his life Brendon's grateful for that.
And at the same time, he realizes that no one else knows or understands this. The heart didn't stir any sort of recognition in anyone.
Brendon has come to realize that magic has always been good at hiding in plain sight; apparent if someone was willing to look a little harder, say the right words to coax it out, but invisible if you didn't tilt your head to look at it the right way. And whatever suspicion was raised by something unusual, like a smoky jar hastily snatched by a classmate, was easily dismissed. It was easy enough to convince some people of magic (Brendon knows he's in this category) but equally simple to find something logical to banish the magical or supernatural.
Maybe it's in Brendon's favor. Pete would probably do some sort of demon curse on him if Brendon exposed his heart-dealing. Which reminds Brendon that he needs to figure out if Pete actually can do him any harm- better safe than sorry isn't usually Brendon's life motto, but he isn't usually dealing with dark magical beings. It's probably not a good thing that Brendon doesn't really know much about demons or their powers other than legends and shit that also say demons have horns and other things that Pete doesn't fit the description for. There must be some sort of book or internet site out there with real information.
Brendon slumps back down in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and head resting on the desk, and tries not to feel the weight of a world other than the normal teenager's sitting on his shoulders.
*****
Brendon heads to Pete's straight after school. It's earlier than he usually goes, but Brendon's pretty eager to get rid of Ryan's heart.
The store's dark when Brendon gets there and empty when he peers in. The sign on the door is flipped to 'Closed - Back Soon' and Brendon stares at it for a few seconds uncomprehendingly. Decaydance has never been closed when Brendon has visited before. It's the middle of the day but too late for a lunch break so why would it be closed?
Brendon frowns, drums his fingers against his leg and then looks back at the sign like it might have changed in the last half-minute. He's a little disappointed to see that it hasn't.
Brendon sits down on the sidewalk and rests his back against the front of the store, backpack in his lap. It's a sunny day but not too warm and there's practically no one on the street, so Brendon carefully unzips part of his backpack and looks in at the heart.
"You- Ryan- or... the person you come from. He wears eyeliner," Brendon informs the heart. Hearts don't talk back so Brendon probably looks stupid or actually is stupid for speaking to it in the first place, but it's true- Ryan was wearing eyeliner. It was all smudged and faded and Brendon hadn't really paid much attention to it at the time, but it seems important now. Ryan's probably just some melodramatic broken-heart who decided to get back at the girl who'd cheated on him by selling his emotions. Brendon feels more justified in his behavior from the night before when he thinks about Ryan selling his heart because of a cheating girlfriend and then lying about it to Brendon.
He waits in a semi-patient manner, guessing how much time has passed and keeping an eye out for Pete coming down the road from a late lunch, but eventually Brendon's not-considerable patience runs dry and he peers through the window again.
Pete had told Brendon to just come in and wait for him in the store if it was ever urgent that he talk to Pete and, checking his cell phone to see that at least ten minutes have passed, Brendon feels like it's urgent enough. He shifts from one foot to the other, hovering as he tries to decide, and gives Pete a last chance to show up. Brendon looks over his shoulder to make sure no one's looking and then he reaches for the door.
It's locked but clicks open. Pete had told him that he'd spelled the door to open under any of his 'special' customer's hands, in case of emergency, and Brendon's a little surprised that it actually worked. Then again, Brendon's a little past the point of doubting magic now, even if the nightly visits can be explained away as incredibly vivid dreams.
The shop's gloomy and dark, but there's enough light coming in from the windows that Brendon can navigate the shelves without difficulty. He does stub his toe where the wood flooring turns to carpet but that's just clumsiness. It's kind of nice with the shop closed actually; it's never very busy but it's a little peaceful and eerie at the same time with no one here other than the books and the hearts at the back of the store. It's weird without Pete there, ready to pop up and offer assistance but Brendon doesn't feel unwelcome or like he's trespassing.
Or at least Brendon thinks that there's no one in the bookshop until he wanders further into the store and hears a low, thrumming sound, maybe a little like music. He pauses and lowers his hand from where he'd been running it along the shelved books, but the noise doesn't change as he stands there, waiting. Finally, Brendon takes a few more steps, keeping his hands to himself now just in case Pete had some sort of alarm system set up on the books that's causing the noise.
The sound gets louder the further Brendon moves into the store. It's still pretty quiet but Brendon's sure that he's not just hearing things now. And it's not music either, despite his first impression; it sounds more like static than anything as Brendon nears the back of the store.
Brendon isn't surprised to see that the door leading to the hearts in the back is open. It's a little sloppy of Pete but he probably wasn't expecting anyone to break into the store. And Brendon's not really breaking in, he tells himself, because he already knows about the hearts and Pete's illicit dealing so there's no reason why Pete would try to keep him out.
Still, if he gets caught snooping around when Pete gets back, then at least he has the excuse of returning the heart. He'll just say he was getting a new one. Nothing suspicious about that.
Actually, it sounds like a good idea to just exchange it now anyways. Brendon knows the process well enough and maybe he'll have more time to actually look through the hearts without Pete standing in the doorway. He never says anything to let on that he knows Brendon's clueless about what he's doing but Brendon still feels like Pete can tell when he watches Brendon look through the hearts.
Pete apparently left the store in a hurry because the light in the hallway is already on when Brendon walks down it. The noise is coming from somewhere down the hall and Brendon wonders for a moment if he'll even be able to find it. There are quite a few doors in the hallway and Brendon's only ever been in the room with the hearts. The rest are probably locked and Brendon's not sure if his unlocking-spelled hands apply to doors other than the front one.
It doesn't matter though because when Brendon nears the end of the hallway, the noise gets the loudest in front of the only door that Brendon knows. It's kind of convenient (but not so much that Brendon's suspicious) that the heart room that Brendon was using as his cover anyways was the source of the noise, but then again all the other doors might just lead to empty rooms anyways. For a second Brendon hesitates; someone else could be in there, exchanging a heart, and Brendon has a flash of belated panic about someone walking in on him while he's doing that. But as quickly as that idea pops up, it's soothed away by the fact that Pete's always been standing guard and what was just an unsettling routine is now comforting.
Curiosity always gets the better of Brendon. He pushes the door open- it's unlocked, which Brendon takes as a sign of fate- and finds Pete sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the hearts.
Brendon screams, guttural, short and startled, and jumps back as Pete stares right at him, eyes completely black.
A shelf of hearts rattles as Brendon steps back into it and he automatically reaches behind him to steady them, not taking his eyes off of Pete. It's impossible to tell where he's looking, his eyes shiny like oil wells. But as Brendon edges along the wall, trying to navigate around the shelves without breaking eye contact, it doesn't look like Pete's eyes are following him. They stare straight ahead at the door. Pete would be the very picture of peaceful repose, his hands resting lightly on the knees of his crossed legs and his back straight, if not for his eerie blank eyes.
Brendon's voice squeaks the first time he tries to speak so instead he just waves his hand cautiously. No response, although Brendon was kind of expecting that. He clears his throat and tries again.
"Pete?"
Nothing, although Pete's chest is rising and falling slowly so Brendon at least knows he's not dead or something.
It takes Brendon a few seconds to figure it out but once Brendon's heart was stopped pounding so loudly in his ears he realizes that the humming noise is definitely coming not just from this room, but from Pete himself. Brendon leans forward and what he really wants to do is press his ear to Pete's body to hear where exactly it's coming from and how he's making that noise but it probably isn't the best idea under the circumstances. Some other time maybe- Pete would probably get a kick out of it. And that makes Brendon's gut twist for a second in worry because Pete's almost unnaturally still except for his breathing. Maybe 'demon' is just some sort of fancy term for robot that Brendon doesn't know about. It would explain the static noise and then Brendon wouldn't have to worry about what the hell is happening to Pete right now. If this is some sort of magical spell or potion gone wrong then Brendon is definitely out of his league.
Brendon calls his name again with the same luck. Finally, Pete's fingers twitch where they're resting on his knees so Brendon figures Pete's not comatose either, but he's definitely not reacting to Brendon's trespassing.
That's enough to convince Brendon that Pete's probably not going to suddenly leap at him and rip his throat out or something anytime soon. Maybe this is some freaky demon thing. Brendon regrets not looking up that stuff about demons sooner but he'll just improvise for now.
If Brendon thought being in the store when it was closed was eerie, it's nothing compared to the surreality of doing his history homework next to an apparently-slumbering demon. Brendon's sitting in front of Pete, just out of reach, and at first he was just watching Pete for any sign of change. But eventually enough time passes that Brendon realizes how incredibly boring that is and even homework becomes a welcome alternative. He alternates between scribbling down answers and watching Pete, but more and more of his time is spent on the homework.
Brendon's so absorbed in his homework that when Pete finally does come to, Brendon probably wouldn't have noticed if not for the loud gasp that Pete makes, like a swimmer coming up for air. He inhales powerfully, sharply and Brendon startles upright from where he was hunched over his book.
There's a moment of utter silence then as they stare at each other and Brendon's pretty sure that his own eyes are so wide and guilty that there's no chance that he looks innocent. But Pete looks too sleepy to really care. His eyes are their normal color- dark irises but white around the edges like any normal human and Brendon feels his tightly hunched shoulders relax fractionally.
Pete's gaze wanders away from Brendon, blinking blearily as he looks around them. Brendon watches him cautiously until Pete's attention lands back on him, head tilted in what looks like benign curiosity.
"Brendon?" Pete's voice is scratchy with sleep and weirdly vulnerable.
"Hey Pete," Brendon says, voice almost whispery and quiet like how he would talk to a sick person. "What's, um. What's up?"
Pete closes his eyes, sighs heavily. He doesn't seem shocked that Brendon's there and Brendon decides not to push him to answer, even with his own curiosity gnawing away. Brendon's not sure he wants to know what's going on. This is kind of like seeing his dad cry.
Finally, Pete speaks without opening his eyes. "You're too nosy for your own good Brendon. You were bound to find out at some point." His voice is still low and Brendon matches the tone because this, whatever it is, doesn't seem like the kind of thing that can be talked about in anything other than whispers.
Pete looks like he has more to say so Brendon doesn't prod, even when Pete slumps over tiredly for a second. Eventually, he lifts his head, eyes open but still a little hazy.
"You're kind of clueless though, huh?" Even in a soft voice, it sounds like a tease and Brendon bristles a little. Pete waves any protests away vaguely. "I know you don't know very much about magic."
When Brendon tries to protest (and lie), Pete just shakes his head and talks over him, voice raising enough to float over Brendon's. "It's obvious you don't know the first thing about it. C'mon Brendon, you fainted when I did a pretty standard spell on you."
Brendon doesn't like to be reminded of that but Pete doesn't usually indulge him when it comes to reining in his teasing. It should be in a matter-of-fact tone, since it seems to be a central piece of evidence for Pete's case, but he can't resist injecting a bit of humor in his voice. Brendon just frowns at him in what he hopes is a disproving look that would do his mother proud.
Pete doesn't seem to notice. "I mean, it's obvious you've never interacted with anything magic before. It's attracted to you more than it would be if you'd ever experienced it before, but then it just-" he waves his hands. "slips off."
Brendon's confusion must show on his face because Pete continues to wave his hands, a bit more enthusiastically like he can conjure up the right image for someone who has no idea what he's talking about. Finally, he comes up with the proper analogy. "Ducks. It's like how water just slides off of ducks."
Brendon shivers a little and then brushes at his shoulder, where he's pretty sure he can see invisible bits of magic or dust or whatever the hell it is that Pete's talking about. "What?"
"Ducks," Pete repeats, stuck on that idea now that he's gotten a hold of it. "But like, your feathers are magic-repellent."
Brendon just stares at Pete, who blinks back before sighing tiredly. "You don't get it." Brendon agrees with that statement. "Whatever. Point is, you don't know anything about magic."
It's true, but a little painful when Pete keeps repeating it. And the fact that Pete knows that Brendon's basically clueless isn't as frightening or earth-shattering as Brendon thought it would be, although that might just be because Pete looks exhausted and is speaking in a soft voice that's anything but accusatory. Instead of denying, he just nods reluctantly.
"You know how I know that?" Pete asks, rhetorically since he continues without even looking at Brendon. "I'm over 700 years old."
Pete's staring at the ceiling thoughtfully but he'd probably be amused by Brendon's reaction, which is his eyes bugging nearly out of his head and his neck dropping forward in disbelief. "Wow," Brendon manages eventually. "That's really old." And finally, since it can't hurt to ask now that Pete knows that Brendon's mostly clueless- "Is that a demon thing? To live that long?"
Pete laughs in the way that he always does at Brendon's questions and Brendon wonders just how long Pete's been letting him stumble around in the dark. "Demons' lifespans are pretty similar to humans. So no."
"Oh," Brendon says, allowing himself to feel stupid for a second before curiosity takes over again. "Magic then?"
"Magic," Pete confirms, his face momentarily wistful and sad in a type of emotion that Brendon wasn't sure Pete was capable of possessing or at least expressing.
"Of course. Youth potion or something like that?"
In a second, Pete's expression is again its mix of sarcastic, tired and warm. "How cliche. And nonexistent- no such thing. If it was that easy, anyone would just whip it up in a heartbeat," Pete grimaces a little at the idea. "It's more of a restoration spell. Takes a few years of practice to master and more effort to actually perform than most people want to put in three times a week."
"You practiced three times a week?" That didn't sound like very much and for a second Brendon has visions of how accomplished he could be if he spent a few hours a week on spells instead of homework.
Pete interrupts any daydreaming. "I have to perform the spell three times a week, check to make sure my body's not aging or breaking down, fix any mistakes it's making. You walked in on my usual Tuesday."
And at that, Brendon waits for questions about what he's doing there, why he's sneaking around the closed shop, but they never come. Pete's gazing off at the hearts on the shelf behind Brendon, looking not entirely awake still.
"It's tiring," he says finally. "I'm tired. Can I just-" He leans forward and Brendon catches him as Pete almost takes a nosedive into the ground. Brendon props him up on his shoulder, scooting across the floor so that they're sitting side-by-side. Pete's head nestles into Brendon's side.
"Why would you want to live forever then, if it's so difficult?" Brendon asks, accepting Pete's explanation of the magic at face-value because he really doesn't know enough to have any grounds to question it.
"Not forever," Pete says and leans his head against Brendon's shoulder with a soft groan. "If there's one thing that living this long has taught me, it's that I never want to live forever."
They're both silent, Pete letting it sit ominously and Brendon waiting for him to continue because that wasn't much of an answer.
Finally, Pete takes a raspy breath. "I was in love, when I was young."
Brendon 'hmm's in what he hopes is an appropriately thoughtful and encouraging manner. At this point, it probably doesn't even matter to Pete- he's not really listening to Brendon, too far gone on tiredness to function very well at listening along with talking.
"He was so fucking perfect," Pete says and Brendon doesn't bother to hide his surprise at the pronoun's gender because Pete's not paying any attention to him. Brendon should probably be disgusted or disappointed, but Pete already challenges every belief that Brendon was brought up with and he's almost not surprised to find him twisting another one. "And that was it for me. I didn't need anything else in the world, just us. Fucking made for each other."
"Yeah?"
Pete snorts an ugly sound. "Yeah. Perfect, until he went and got sick. I was off on business for my parents and he was all but dead by the time I got back-" Brendon flinches a little at the bitter tone. "I couldn't even save him- I bet you didn't know that demons are usually pretty good at healing magic, huh? Doesn't seem like it with all the bad press we get. Deserved press, questionable demon morals and all that. Good healers though."
Pete makes a small, pained noise. "But we can't tap into our power until adulthood and I was too young, too stupid and maybe if I'd just been a little older or stronger or..."
Pete sighs against Brendon's neck and Brendon squeezes his shoulder, unsure of what to say.
"I got to see him die at least," Pete says and Brendon can feel the smile of lips against his neck and the rising hairs there in response to the shiver that runs through him ominously. But Pete doesn't sound threatening or frightening. "It meant I could say goodbye. And tag his heart."
"Tag?" Brendon murmurs.
"Demon ability. I can tell every time he's reincarnated, just not where to find his heart. But it'll keep other demons away and if his heart ever shows up in the shop, I'll know. I've looked at enough people's heartache to recognize my own."
Brendon squeezes Pete's shoulder again. He's never been the type for spoken comfort, but Pete doesn't look like he'd be able to withstand the cuddling that Brendon usually uses to soothe. A gentle squeeze and tucking his head on top of Pete's is as close as Brendon can get.
"His heart's been reincarnated a few times over." Brendon doesn't question this concept of reincarnation, not when Pete's spilling out personal details that Brendon will never find in any book on magic or spells or potions. This is more important and rarer than that. "And- I saw him, twice. He was a girl once and I didn't even recognize him until it was too late and then I couldn't track him down again. And the other time..."
Pete stops short, face closed and body folded in on itself. Brendon's not sure what to do, other than pat helplessly at Pete's back in an attempt at comfort. Finally, Pete shakes off whatever cloak of sad silence had enveloped him. "Well, the first time wasn't the only time I let him die," he says finally. He stares off into space for a moment but Brendon doesn't poke at the freshly-exposed wound.
Finally, Pete's eyelids are drooping more than they're staying open and Brendon helps lay him down on the floor. "You can sleep. I'll stay here and keep an eye on the store until you wake up."
Brendon suspects that Pete would have put up a fight if he'd had the energy to even keep his eyes open. Instead he rests complacently enough on the hard floor, one hand tucked under his head.
Brendon rests his hand on top of Pete's cheek for a second, gently, before leaving to watch the front of the store and work on his homework.
Pete comes out an hour or so later, looking tired but not nearly as drained and lets Brendon take a new heart. They don't talk about anything that Pete told him but Pete takes Ryan's heart without the usual teasing word or comment.
*****
She has brown eyes, a slightly curved nose and straight hair dyed blue and dirty blonde.
Most of the heartless that Brendon's met so far (Sandra and Rachel, at least) have a certain look of vague fuzziness to them, like their bodies are there but their eyes are those smeared chalky pastels he drew with in kindergarten. But there's definitely something harder in this girl, in the way her hands rest deceptively gentle on her hips as she eyes him. He wants to place his hands where hers are and he wonders if that's the point.
"Who are you supposed to be?" she asks.
"Brendon, uh, Urie," he says like an idiot. He's surprised to find that he's nervous. Luckily, he'd already thrown up outside into a trashcan in the hallway before wandering into the open door of the swanky hotel, so there's no nervous nausea bubbling up.
"And why the hell are you here?"
She's a little frightening, Brendon decides, in a thrilling way. "Why are you living in a hotel?" he asks instead of answering, because he doesn't really have an answer other than 'messing around with things I shouldn't'.
She gives the room a cursory look. "I don't live here, dumbass. I came out for the weekend."
She answered his question so it's only fair he returns the favor. "I have your heart."
He's prepared for the girl to laugh outright at that- he's pretty sure that Pete made some horrible mistake and maybe only bottled part of this girl's heart or something, if that's even possible. She looks far too flamboyantly angry. And the rest of the heartless have all accepted his presence without question, so either she's faking her surprise or something's wrong.
Her lips twist into a frown before she turns away, yawning in a bored way. It's so overdramatic that Brendon can only assume it's fake as she walks to the couch against the window overlooking the Strip. "Oh, is that all?"
Brendon shrugs- it's never been a question with any of the other heartless.
"Well, since you've introduced yourself, I guess you can know that I'm Audrey Kitching," she says like it should mean something to him. Brendon nods, trying to look impressed and she waves him over, tapping the spot next to her on the couch with her foot to indicate that he should sit. "How's Pete doing?"
Brendon perches on the couch and sinks into the cushions, but he looks up at her question. In retrospect, it's probably odd that no one else has asked about Pete before, but they've all been too busy asking about their own heart, not worrying about the person that took it from them.
"He's good. Lonely," Brendon says. He's not sure how he knows that when he's only met Pete a few times but. He does.
"Yeah, who isn't?" Audrey frowns prettily, looking out the window. "He needs a pet or an assistant or something."
Brendon wonders if they're still talking about Pete. He nods slowly in agreement.
Audrey twirls a piece of multicolored hair around her finger, looking at it thoughtfully. "I'm thinking about dying my hair pink. Maybe a little black in it, but mostly pink."
Brendon thinks that it would make her look even more like a cartoon than she already does, but Pete's kind of cartoon-y himself, although in a too-large for life way than in the obnoxiously-colored way that Audrey is. "That'd be cool," he says finally, because it would be. He doesn't know anyone else with pink hair, but she could pull it off probably.
"Yeah, it'd look badass," she says with an air of finality, flipping her hair through her fingers before looking up at Brendon through her eyelashes. "So, Brendon, a little young in life to be shopping for hearts, don't you think? You've probably got a few more years before you should give up on finding love the old fashioned way, right? Or wait-" she laughs. "Please tell me you're looking for some girl's heart because you think she's the love of your life."
It seems a little ironic that she's commenting on his age, coming from a girl who probably isn't any older than he is. She doesn't look like she'd be truly amused by his answer, more like it would just give her something more to tease and fight him with, so Brendon just answers with the truth.
"I'm just looking for my grandpa's heart. I think he sold it to Pete and I'm looking for it," Brendon answers.
Audrey looks a little putout by that although she does arch one well-plucked eyebrow. "You think he sold it to him? There aren't many heart-dealers anywhere near Pete, so where else would his heart be if he did sell it?"
Brendon hadn't known that but he hasn't thought too much about the logistics of it all. He's been kind of avoiding thinking too hard about it, actually, because it's only a good reason (excuse) to keep hanging around Pete's shop as long as he doesn't question it too much. "Well, I don't know, he might not have sold him his heart. But he had a card for Pete's store hidden so I figured it must have been something like that."
That's a good enough answer for Audrey, who nods knowingly. "That sounds suspicious enough. Who would have sold his heart though?"
"I thought that he had to sell his own heart?"
Audrey jumps on that so quickly that it's pretty obvious she's more interested in flaunting her knowledge than working out Brendon's grandpa's reasoning. "What? You thought a person had to give away their own heart?" She laughs but it's less amused than Pete's laughter when Brendon says something that should be obvious, and more mean. "That wouldn't be a very good business. How many people would willingly give up their heart?"
Brendon shrugs- everyone he's met so far, even if Ryan lied about it, and for a variety of reasons- but he does feel a little stupid too.
"I mean, sometimes it's worth it, but most people don't have the guts for that. They just want to love everyone that comes along and let them-" she gestures grandly, like there's something that she can't quite describe in words and only in large movement. "Walk all over them, weigh them down."
"Did you sell your heart?" Brendon asks, because he knows Audrey will tell him.
She doesn't disappoint, although she does look at him suspiciously for a second before nodding casually. "I'm not scared of not being in love."
Brendon isn't known for being perceptive and he knows he usually isn't, but even he can tell that what Audrey's more afraid of is actually being in love.
"Why would you even need that anyways? It's only going to hold you back," she says contemptuously and it's easier to just nod along and let her talk. "I mean, I'm glad I made the decision so no one else did it for me."
"So people can just sell someone else's heart?" Brendon asks and Audrey looks for a second like she'd forgotten he was there, or at least capable of talking.
"Not just anyone. You can only sell a heart that you own- because it's yours or because that person's in love with you. Makes being in love seem stupid, right?" She snorts contemptuously and in a way that isn't very ladylike, although neither is the way she's sitting with her legs spread open from the knees down. "It makes you so weak and vulnerable- stupid enough to let anyone control you." She looks at him curiously. "Didn't you even look this stuff up before you came to Pete? I thought you had to know what you were getting into when you bought from him."
"Well, I haven't actually bought anything yet," Brendon says, and that's the truth. "And I know some stuff. Enough."
"Apparently not."
Brendon steers the conversation back into safer waters- she's starting to look suspicious. "Most people love and they're doing alright. Selling your own heart seems kind of extreme."
"Most people are stupid fucks," Audrey replies easily. "They'll convince you that they matter more to you than your own dreams. I'm not giving up what I want for anyone else."
"What do you want?"
Audrey's eyes light up a little at that and her face softens. "I'm a model," she informs him. "And I got that because I wouldn't let anyone step on me to get there."
"But you-"
"Don't love it anymore? Can't love it anymore? Doesn't matter. Doesn't mean I don't want it." She picks invisible lint off her skirt and Brendon watches her rake her nails over the tops of thighs gently. "At one point, I wanted it so badly I could taste it. You don't forget how that feels."
Brendon nods, even if he's not exactly sure he gets it. After all, he's got a whole lifetime of emotion ahead of him; he hasn't spent too much time on introspection and even when he wants something, desires it more than anything else, he knows that there could always be another something around the corner.
Audrey doesn't really have that option though, he guesses. Maybe the taste of old desire is as good as it gets for her- for them. Still-
"You must hope that someone's going to buy your heart," Brendon says, thinking of Rachel.
Audrey shakes her head harder than necessary, her bangs sliding around on her forehead messily. "I don't hope anything," she says, chin set defiantly. "Besides, who wants to owe the person that buys it? That's not love anyways- that's obligation. And seriously, fuck that."
And Brendon ...agrees. He thinks that the whole thing sounds more romantic than it really is, because either way you're screwing someone over. That's all heart-dealing is; a long line of someone continuously getting screwed over.
"My advice? Don't buy your grandpa's heart," she says with a surprisingly thoughtful look. "You don't seem like the type of person that could exchange someone's heart for his."
Brendon's not sure if he should take that as a compliment, mostly because he doesn't understand what she means by that, until Audrey erases any nice sentiment that might have with a smirk. "Or the type that could convince someone to fall in love with you, so good luck if that's what you're really after- that grandpa story seems like bullshit."
Brendon wants to defend himself but then Audrey leans forward, smacks a kiss to his cheek that Brendon can feel is slick with lipgloss, and says "Bye Brendon."
*****
Brendon stops by the grocery store because his mom wanted him to grab some carrots and he's standing in line at the U-Scan when he sees a familiar head of styled brown hair belonging to someone swiping a bag of chips across the scanner.
"Ryan! Hey!"
Ryan glances over and looks around in confusion. Brendon waves and Ryan's eyes light on him, looking a little stunned.
Brendon's suddenly aware that he's grinning. He can feel it slipping into an awkwardly-pasted smile as Ryan just stares at him. He definitely recognizes Brendon but makes no move to acknowledge him and Brendon is reminded that they didn't meet, speak or part on good terms, so why the hell would Ryan welcome him with open arms?
A slightly rounded boy looks over at Brendon over Ryan's shoulder and then nudges his elbow questioningly. Ryan blinks and then looks back at his friend and Brendon quickly moves out of the U-Scan line and into a cashier's line to spare himself any further embarrassment.
He grips the bag of carrots tightly and deliberately doesn't look back over at the U-Scan, like maybe if he can't see Ryan then he'll think that Brendon just disappeared and save them both from further awkwardness. He counts down from fifty before he can safely look over but he only gets to 37 when Ryan touches him lightly on the elbow.
"Uh, hey, Brendon right?" Ryan glances over at the boy he was with, who's watching curiously but with a determined look. "You surprised me."
Brendon admittedly doesn't know Ryan very well, but he's pretty sure that's as close to an apology as he's going to get. "It's cool- I mean, I didn't except to see you again so I just kind of." Blurted out his name? Brendon shrugs helplessly.
"No, yeah, I didn't think we'd run into each other again. You live in Summerlin?"
"Yeah," Brendon says. "Maybe ten minutes from here."
Ryan nods and keeps his eye on his friend, who's leaning on a display of candy bars and watching them pointedly.
"Small world," Brendon offers and Ryan glances back at him, smiling the tiniest amount.
"Yeah, apparently," he replies and Brendon wonders at what a little sleep will do for a person's disposition. Ryan doesn't look entirely happy to be there but at least he doesn't look like he's going to snap and tear Brendon's throat out.
It's almost like they're classmates or acquaintances or something other than... whatever label would describe how they know each other.
"Well, this is awkward," Brendon acknowledges brightly.
Ryan nods, shoulders hunched a little in his own discomfort although he straightens himself a little when the other boy finally comes over, eying Ryan before turning to Brendon. "You're buying from Pete?"
Brendon's eyes cut to Ryan for explanation- they're not supposed to talk about heart-dealing with anyone, so who is this kid that Ryan gets to share his secrets while Brendon's kept quiet?- but Ryan shrugs uncomfortably, deflecting any responsibility. When the other guy clears his throat, Brendon's attention turns back to him, reluctant to answer.
"I know about Pete," the kid reassures him, although his body is tilted in a challenging posture. "And I'm guessing that's how you know Ryan since you don't look like a private school snob."
Ryan smirks a little at that, looking at the other kid and exchanging a briefly amused look with him.
"Yeah," Brendon answers, breaking up the inside joke. "Not really the private school type."
The kid eyes him up and down and while he doesn't look angry or sharp like Ryan does, his face is serious and considering and Brendon tries not to slouch uncomfortably. Finally, he seems satisfied with his inspection and turns to Ryan expectantly. His eyebrows raise questioningly, gaze darts to Brendon and Ryan rolls his head in a half-nodded response. Brendon watches the exchange with a curiosity and cluelessness akin to his reaction to wildlife shows on the Discovery Channel.
"I'm Brendon," he offers and that seems to be the right approach because the other boy's face brightens a little and softens from its seriousness.
"Spencer." Brendon holds his hand out to shake because that's what he always does with his parent's friends at Church. Spencer looks down at it, brow wrinkled. Brendon feels like an utter freak of nature (a common occurrence) until Spencer grabs his hand with a look of 'why not' on his face and shakes.
Ryan doesn't make a move to facilitate the introductions, but Brendon gets the feeling that he's just socially oblivious that way and it's not anything against Brendon. Spencer doesn't seem to mind at least, taking the bag of groceries from Ryan's hands and bumping against his shoulder.
"We have to get these back home or my sisters are going to riot."
"Slumber party," Ryan explains and Brendon nods knowingly.
"Yeah, don't let me keep you guys. Wouldn't want to cause family warfare," Brendon says.
Spencer waves as they turn to leave. "Nice to meet you, Brendon."
"Yeah, definitely. And, uh, good to see you Ryan," Brendon says.
Ryan's head bobs in the smallest of nods but he smiles a little before turning to look at Spencer as they leave. The cashier looks at Brendon impatiently over the register and he hands over the carrots belatedly without really minding her glare.
*****
Pete's shop is empty when Brendon goes to return Audrey's heart and Brendon isn't going to bother to linger at the front of the store if there's no reason to. Pete glances up when Brendon spots him behind the counter and frowns so darkly that Brendon freezes.
"Okay," Pete says, rising up from his seat behind the counter. "Here's the thing. You seem like a good kid and you're okay to have around the shop, but you can't keep pulling this shit."
Brendon's not sure if this is a joke or not- Pete looks serious enough but it's not like Brendon knows him very well. Well enough for Pete to spill his secrets in a moment of weakness but not close enough to tell joking from serious apparently.
Brendon decides to be cautious. "What?"
"If you were really looking for a specific heart, you would have found it by now. Fifth time's not a charm, kid. So why are you really sneaking around here all the time?"
Pete doesn't take a step forward but he suddenly seems much bigger and Brendon shrinks back instinctively, shoulder hitting a shelf. He glances around for an escape route but Pete is still standing behind the counter so there's nothing to run from yet. He's still short and has straightened hair, but suddenly those tattoos that Brendon thought were pretty sweet are a little menacing and his smile isn't friendly. He looks like his mother's worst nightmare and Brendon, for once, actually isn't enthused by that. Brendon might not know what he did wrong, but he does know not to fuck with a demon.
For the second time since he's met Pete, Brendon's afraid of him.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," Brendon hedges.
And the thing is, he really doesn't. Although- there has been a sneaking suspicion resting in the back of Brendon's mind that maybe he was a little quick to draw conclusions about his grandpa's involvement with Pete's store. After all, he runs a bigger business than just the heart-dealing. His grandpa could have been buying a book for all Brendon knows.
"What are you really doing here?" Pete has never looked so menacing, Brendon thinks. "Looking to bust someone for being involved with heart-dealing? Because my ass is better covered than you can imagine, kid."
"I don't know what you mean!" Brendon repeats, shaking his head in denial of whatever he's being accused of. "I'm just looking for my grandpa's heart, man. I don't know why I can't find it but I'm not... doing anything!"
Pete eyes him. "You're really just looking for his heart?"
Brendon nods fervently.
Pete stares him down, expression closed, for an eternity.
"I wasn't messing with you when I said you should have been able to find his heart," Pete says finally. "If you know the person at all, you should be able to pick their heart out of a bunch of strangers'."
"Well, I mean, he died when I was kind of young so it wasn't like he were close or anything," Brendon offers.
Pete stares at him.
"Your grandpa's dead?"
Brendon feels like he's missing something. "Uh, yeah? He, uh, has been for a while."
Pete is still looking at Brendon like he's grown a second head, but something is dawning on him. "You're looking for a dead person's heart?"
Brendon shrugs and nods hesitantly. What's wrong with that?
Something, obviously, since Pete bursts into laughter that seems more enlightened than truly amused. "No wonder you couldn't find it." He takes a deep breath and expels it in a bemused sound. "Once someone dies, their heart gets reincarnated and the stuff in those jars just turns to dust. Poof."
"What?"
Pete shakes his head. "Everyone knows this stuff, kid." And Brendon feels a lot younger and more clueless than he has in years. "That's what all those cloudy jars in the back are."
Brendon remembers what Pete had told him about that guy's heart. "Yeah, well, I know you said that your heart supposedly get reincarnated and stuff but." The Church doesn't believe in that so technically Brendon isn't supposed to give it much serious thought. "I thought maybe the hearts got... trapped? In the jars?"
And instead of laughing it off like everything else, that seems to trouble Pete a little. He shrugs, frowning minutely. "They're not really 'trapped', but I guess that's one way of looking at it."
"So if they're not really trapped..."
"Their hearts can't be fully reincarnated and the person who was supposed to be born with their heart is a little... stunted, emotionally. It's not as bad as being actually heartless, but they can't feel things like a normal person could. Their emotions are dull, they don't really completely love people..." Pete trails off for a second." It wears off the more times the heart is reincarnated- you can't keep anything metaphysical trapped for too long and eventually it just leaks back into the world." Pete wiggles his fingers for emphasis. "But that first cycle without a full heart is kind of rough."
Brendon doesn't like the sound of that. He doesn't want to provoke Pete by asking for clarification though, so he just watches Pete pace until he suddenly looks up at Brendon.
"So you're really not fucking with me?"
"No, I'm really not fucking with you," Brendon says and Pete's eyes crinkle up a little like he's laughing when Brendon says 'fuck' and okay, maybe Brendon put a little too much force behind the word but it's not something he's used to being allowed to say.
"As long as you're sure-" Brendon nods emphatically. "Well okay. No harm in that then. Excuse the accusations- I just have to make sure you're not sniffing around here and looking to turn me in to the cops or something."
Brendon relaxes only in fractions but Pete seems to think that all is forgiven. He sits back down on his stool and goes back to reading his magazine. Brendon lingers, but the conversation is apparently over, as far as Pete's concerned. Matter's settled, case closed. Brendon's not really sure what conclusion they reached.
He rights a book that fell when he bumped into the shelf and then tilts his head back to stare at the high shelves.
If his grandpa's heart is a lost cause (or maybe not even sold to Pete in the first place), then there's really no reason for Brendon to be here. Maybe that's the conclusion that Pete reached.
Or- it's not that Brendon doesn't have a reason to be here, really, since he can think of a million reasons why he should be here, wants to be here. He just doesn't have an excuse anymore.
There's a light covering of dust on the higher shelves and Brendon runs his fingers over the spines of books and pinches the fuzzy specks between his fingers. Pete makes a small noise, clears his throat, and Brendon leans back between the aisles to look at him but Pete's still absorbed in his magazine, one hand propping up his head as the other flips pages slowly.
Brendon stays in his line of sight for a few seconds longer, hopeful, but there's nothing more from Pete. Brendon slinks back into the aisle, absorbing the way the sun shines off the feathers of a dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling before nodding resolutely to himself, squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat loudly.
Pete doesn't look up until Brendon's coughing very deliberately into his fist and swaying with impatience in front of the counter, and then he looks surprised and confused. "What's up?"
"So, I guess that's it then? The heart I'm looking for isn't back there?" Brendon gestures vaguely and then belatedly looks over his shoulder to make sure no one sees him pointing at the storeroom.
Pete shakes his head casually. "Nope. Even if I had it at one point, I don't anymore if he's dead."
"Oh," Brendon says, feeling a little numb. "I guess... I should go then?"
Pete's gaze narrows on him, thoughtful. He folds his magazine and leans over the counter, arms folded on the surface. "Nobody's chasing you away. But if you need to go, yeah, what you're looking for isn't here."
He's wrong there. Brendon needs to stay. He has to go, because he's sure that one day his mom will be able to somehow see traces of magic on his skin and then Brendon will be in the deepest shit of his life. But he needs, with his whole being, to stay, even if his mother would cry and the Church would be mad, because what he's looking for? It's here.
Brendon nods jerkily, puts Audrey's heart on the counter, and leaves.
*****
Brendon feels more isolated from his family now that he doesn't have Pete- it makes it even more apparent how far his views have diverged from his parents. They aren't seeing the world in the same way anymore, which seemed like a rebellious and exciting concept when he had Pete on his side and now is just lonely.
Brendon knows that he's done with the Church. He doesn't have the balls yet to tell anyone but he knows in his head and in his heart that he's not made for that faith.
He sits at dinner with his mom and dad on either end of the table, picks at his food and tries to imagine how they would take it. Disbelief, maybe, and probably anger because that's not really something he's supposed to joke about. But he can't even begin to imagine how they would react if they took him seriously and he doesn't really want to think about what would happen. So he keeps quiet and tries not to feel especially lonely in church knowing that he doesn't have Pete's shop to escape to or anyone to talk to about this.
Brendon knows he doesn't have very many friends, so there's no support system outside of his family. If they reject him, there's nowhere for him to go.
Jon's the only person that Brendon could tell about all of this but that would probably mean explaining Pete and the hearts and Brendon knows that isn't physically possible. He'd tried once, in a fit of desperation and frustration the day after he'd walked out of Pete's shop, to tell his lab partner in Chemistry about the hearts and she'd stared at him weirdly before answering that no, she didn't watch very much Family Guy.
And that makes him miss Pete's sense of humor and Brendon excuses himself to the bathroom where he sits in a stall with his head on his knees. (Part Four)
Part Three
*****
Brendon almost expects to be burnt when he picks up Ryan's heart the next morning. He sits cross-legged in front of it for a few seconds, watching the swirls of orange and smoky red, and considers using gloves or something to handle it before he decides to just grab the heart and stick it in his backpack. Nothing happens- not even the slight warmth of Sandra's heart- and Brendon zips his backpack firmly and tells himself not to worry about experiences that are more like dreams anyways.
He brings the heart to school with him because he's less afraid of anyone at school finding out than leaving it unattended at home with his mom. Maybe it's lucky that Brendon doesn't have any friends at school that might open his backpack looking for a piece of gum or an extra pencil, because then he'd have some questions to creatively evade. Brendon's not sure if he really considers that lucky though.
The heart's too big to be completely inconspicuous, but at least Brendon doesn't attract very much attention on his own (despite his best efforts) and no one asks him about it. The heart bulges out one side of his backpack and makes it a little harder to worm through crowded hallways because he keeps hitting people with the hard lump. He gets more than a few dirty looks and one girl clutches her arm like he's seriously wounded her and Brendon makes a vague, apologetic motion with his hands before ducking into his math class.
He gets a weird look from the girl sitting next to him when his backpack clinks against the floor, and Brendon winces even though he knows hearts can't break. He slumps down in his chair, fiddles with a pencil, tries to look as uninteresting as possible. But when he unzips his backpack to get his calculator and paper, the heart rolls out and across the floor and Brendon's pretty sure his own heart stops.
It rolls a few feet away before stopping against the leg of a desk, getting a few curious looks before Brendon pushes his chair away and grabs the heart. He puts it away quickly and then hunches over his desk defensively. Other than those initial looks, there's no reaction from most of his classmates but Brendon's pulse is thumping wildly in his temples.
He's never had to worry before about someone finding out about the hearts. His mom had unzipped his backpack to put his lunch in the day that Brendon was returning Rachel's heart but luckily his sweatshirt was covering most of the jar. Still, Brendon had thought he might throw up just from the adrenaline and dread.
Now he's just suspicious, because surely one of his classmates recognized the heart for what it was. But no one's paying attention to him and for once in his life Brendon's grateful for that.
And at the same time, he realizes that no one else knows or understands this. The heart didn't stir any sort of recognition in anyone.
Brendon has come to realize that magic has always been good at hiding in plain sight; apparent if someone was willing to look a little harder, say the right words to coax it out, but invisible if you didn't tilt your head to look at it the right way. And whatever suspicion was raised by something unusual, like a smoky jar hastily snatched by a classmate, was easily dismissed. It was easy enough to convince some people of magic (Brendon knows he's in this category) but equally simple to find something logical to banish the magical or supernatural.
Maybe it's in Brendon's favor. Pete would probably do some sort of demon curse on him if Brendon exposed his heart-dealing. Which reminds Brendon that he needs to figure out if Pete actually can do him any harm- better safe than sorry isn't usually Brendon's life motto, but he isn't usually dealing with dark magical beings. It's probably not a good thing that Brendon doesn't really know much about demons or their powers other than legends and shit that also say demons have horns and other things that Pete doesn't fit the description for. There must be some sort of book or internet site out there with real information.
Brendon slumps back down in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and head resting on the desk, and tries not to feel the weight of a world other than the normal teenager's sitting on his shoulders.
*****
Brendon heads to Pete's straight after school. It's earlier than he usually goes, but Brendon's pretty eager to get rid of Ryan's heart.
The store's dark when Brendon gets there and empty when he peers in. The sign on the door is flipped to 'Closed - Back Soon' and Brendon stares at it for a few seconds uncomprehendingly. Decaydance has never been closed when Brendon has visited before. It's the middle of the day but too late for a lunch break so why would it be closed?
Brendon frowns, drums his fingers against his leg and then looks back at the sign like it might have changed in the last half-minute. He's a little disappointed to see that it hasn't.
Brendon sits down on the sidewalk and rests his back against the front of the store, backpack in his lap. It's a sunny day but not too warm and there's practically no one on the street, so Brendon carefully unzips part of his backpack and looks in at the heart.
"You- Ryan- or... the person you come from. He wears eyeliner," Brendon informs the heart. Hearts don't talk back so Brendon probably looks stupid or actually is stupid for speaking to it in the first place, but it's true- Ryan was wearing eyeliner. It was all smudged and faded and Brendon hadn't really paid much attention to it at the time, but it seems important now. Ryan's probably just some melodramatic broken-heart who decided to get back at the girl who'd cheated on him by selling his emotions. Brendon feels more justified in his behavior from the night before when he thinks about Ryan selling his heart because of a cheating girlfriend and then lying about it to Brendon.
He waits in a semi-patient manner, guessing how much time has passed and keeping an eye out for Pete coming down the road from a late lunch, but eventually Brendon's not-considerable patience runs dry and he peers through the window again.
Pete had told Brendon to just come in and wait for him in the store if it was ever urgent that he talk to Pete and, checking his cell phone to see that at least ten minutes have passed, Brendon feels like it's urgent enough. He shifts from one foot to the other, hovering as he tries to decide, and gives Pete a last chance to show up. Brendon looks over his shoulder to make sure no one's looking and then he reaches for the door.
It's locked but clicks open. Pete had told him that he'd spelled the door to open under any of his 'special' customer's hands, in case of emergency, and Brendon's a little surprised that it actually worked. Then again, Brendon's a little past the point of doubting magic now, even if the nightly visits can be explained away as incredibly vivid dreams.
The shop's gloomy and dark, but there's enough light coming in from the windows that Brendon can navigate the shelves without difficulty. He does stub his toe where the wood flooring turns to carpet but that's just clumsiness. It's kind of nice with the shop closed actually; it's never very busy but it's a little peaceful and eerie at the same time with no one here other than the books and the hearts at the back of the store. It's weird without Pete there, ready to pop up and offer assistance but Brendon doesn't feel unwelcome or like he's trespassing.
Or at least Brendon thinks that there's no one in the bookshop until he wanders further into the store and hears a low, thrumming sound, maybe a little like music. He pauses and lowers his hand from where he'd been running it along the shelved books, but the noise doesn't change as he stands there, waiting. Finally, Brendon takes a few more steps, keeping his hands to himself now just in case Pete had some sort of alarm system set up on the books that's causing the noise.
The sound gets louder the further Brendon moves into the store. It's still pretty quiet but Brendon's sure that he's not just hearing things now. And it's not music either, despite his first impression; it sounds more like static than anything as Brendon nears the back of the store.
Brendon isn't surprised to see that the door leading to the hearts in the back is open. It's a little sloppy of Pete but he probably wasn't expecting anyone to break into the store. And Brendon's not really breaking in, he tells himself, because he already knows about the hearts and Pete's illicit dealing so there's no reason why Pete would try to keep him out.
Still, if he gets caught snooping around when Pete gets back, then at least he has the excuse of returning the heart. He'll just say he was getting a new one. Nothing suspicious about that.
Actually, it sounds like a good idea to just exchange it now anyways. Brendon knows the process well enough and maybe he'll have more time to actually look through the hearts without Pete standing in the doorway. He never says anything to let on that he knows Brendon's clueless about what he's doing but Brendon still feels like Pete can tell when he watches Brendon look through the hearts.
Pete apparently left the store in a hurry because the light in the hallway is already on when Brendon walks down it. The noise is coming from somewhere down the hall and Brendon wonders for a moment if he'll even be able to find it. There are quite a few doors in the hallway and Brendon's only ever been in the room with the hearts. The rest are probably locked and Brendon's not sure if his unlocking-spelled hands apply to doors other than the front one.
It doesn't matter though because when Brendon nears the end of the hallway, the noise gets the loudest in front of the only door that Brendon knows. It's kind of convenient (but not so much that Brendon's suspicious) that the heart room that Brendon was using as his cover anyways was the source of the noise, but then again all the other doors might just lead to empty rooms anyways. For a second Brendon hesitates; someone else could be in there, exchanging a heart, and Brendon has a flash of belated panic about someone walking in on him while he's doing that. But as quickly as that idea pops up, it's soothed away by the fact that Pete's always been standing guard and what was just an unsettling routine is now comforting.
Curiosity always gets the better of Brendon. He pushes the door open- it's unlocked, which Brendon takes as a sign of fate- and finds Pete sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the hearts.
Brendon screams, guttural, short and startled, and jumps back as Pete stares right at him, eyes completely black.
A shelf of hearts rattles as Brendon steps back into it and he automatically reaches behind him to steady them, not taking his eyes off of Pete. It's impossible to tell where he's looking, his eyes shiny like oil wells. But as Brendon edges along the wall, trying to navigate around the shelves without breaking eye contact, it doesn't look like Pete's eyes are following him. They stare straight ahead at the door. Pete would be the very picture of peaceful repose, his hands resting lightly on the knees of his crossed legs and his back straight, if not for his eerie blank eyes.
Brendon's voice squeaks the first time he tries to speak so instead he just waves his hand cautiously. No response, although Brendon was kind of expecting that. He clears his throat and tries again.
"Pete?"
Nothing, although Pete's chest is rising and falling slowly so Brendon at least knows he's not dead or something.
It takes Brendon a few seconds to figure it out but once Brendon's heart was stopped pounding so loudly in his ears he realizes that the humming noise is definitely coming not just from this room, but from Pete himself. Brendon leans forward and what he really wants to do is press his ear to Pete's body to hear where exactly it's coming from and how he's making that noise but it probably isn't the best idea under the circumstances. Some other time maybe- Pete would probably get a kick out of it. And that makes Brendon's gut twist for a second in worry because Pete's almost unnaturally still except for his breathing. Maybe 'demon' is just some sort of fancy term for robot that Brendon doesn't know about. It would explain the static noise and then Brendon wouldn't have to worry about what the hell is happening to Pete right now. If this is some sort of magical spell or potion gone wrong then Brendon is definitely out of his league.
Brendon calls his name again with the same luck. Finally, Pete's fingers twitch where they're resting on his knees so Brendon figures Pete's not comatose either, but he's definitely not reacting to Brendon's trespassing.
That's enough to convince Brendon that Pete's probably not going to suddenly leap at him and rip his throat out or something anytime soon. Maybe this is some freaky demon thing. Brendon regrets not looking up that stuff about demons sooner but he'll just improvise for now.
If Brendon thought being in the store when it was closed was eerie, it's nothing compared to the surreality of doing his history homework next to an apparently-slumbering demon. Brendon's sitting in front of Pete, just out of reach, and at first he was just watching Pete for any sign of change. But eventually enough time passes that Brendon realizes how incredibly boring that is and even homework becomes a welcome alternative. He alternates between scribbling down answers and watching Pete, but more and more of his time is spent on the homework.
Brendon's so absorbed in his homework that when Pete finally does come to, Brendon probably wouldn't have noticed if not for the loud gasp that Pete makes, like a swimmer coming up for air. He inhales powerfully, sharply and Brendon startles upright from where he was hunched over his book.
There's a moment of utter silence then as they stare at each other and Brendon's pretty sure that his own eyes are so wide and guilty that there's no chance that he looks innocent. But Pete looks too sleepy to really care. His eyes are their normal color- dark irises but white around the edges like any normal human and Brendon feels his tightly hunched shoulders relax fractionally.
Pete's gaze wanders away from Brendon, blinking blearily as he looks around them. Brendon watches him cautiously until Pete's attention lands back on him, head tilted in what looks like benign curiosity.
"Brendon?" Pete's voice is scratchy with sleep and weirdly vulnerable.
"Hey Pete," Brendon says, voice almost whispery and quiet like how he would talk to a sick person. "What's, um. What's up?"
Pete closes his eyes, sighs heavily. He doesn't seem shocked that Brendon's there and Brendon decides not to push him to answer, even with his own curiosity gnawing away. Brendon's not sure he wants to know what's going on. This is kind of like seeing his dad cry.
Finally, Pete speaks without opening his eyes. "You're too nosy for your own good Brendon. You were bound to find out at some point." His voice is still low and Brendon matches the tone because this, whatever it is, doesn't seem like the kind of thing that can be talked about in anything other than whispers.
Pete looks like he has more to say so Brendon doesn't prod, even when Pete slumps over tiredly for a second. Eventually, he lifts his head, eyes open but still a little hazy.
"You're kind of clueless though, huh?" Even in a soft voice, it sounds like a tease and Brendon bristles a little. Pete waves any protests away vaguely. "I know you don't know very much about magic."
When Brendon tries to protest (and lie), Pete just shakes his head and talks over him, voice raising enough to float over Brendon's. "It's obvious you don't know the first thing about it. C'mon Brendon, you fainted when I did a pretty standard spell on you."
Brendon doesn't like to be reminded of that but Pete doesn't usually indulge him when it comes to reining in his teasing. It should be in a matter-of-fact tone, since it seems to be a central piece of evidence for Pete's case, but he can't resist injecting a bit of humor in his voice. Brendon just frowns at him in what he hopes is a disproving look that would do his mother proud.
Pete doesn't seem to notice. "I mean, it's obvious you've never interacted with anything magic before. It's attracted to you more than it would be if you'd ever experienced it before, but then it just-" he waves his hands. "slips off."
Brendon's confusion must show on his face because Pete continues to wave his hands, a bit more enthusiastically like he can conjure up the right image for someone who has no idea what he's talking about. Finally, he comes up with the proper analogy. "Ducks. It's like how water just slides off of ducks."
Brendon shivers a little and then brushes at his shoulder, where he's pretty sure he can see invisible bits of magic or dust or whatever the hell it is that Pete's talking about. "What?"
"Ducks," Pete repeats, stuck on that idea now that he's gotten a hold of it. "But like, your feathers are magic-repellent."
Brendon just stares at Pete, who blinks back before sighing tiredly. "You don't get it." Brendon agrees with that statement. "Whatever. Point is, you don't know anything about magic."
It's true, but a little painful when Pete keeps repeating it. And the fact that Pete knows that Brendon's basically clueless isn't as frightening or earth-shattering as Brendon thought it would be, although that might just be because Pete looks exhausted and is speaking in a soft voice that's anything but accusatory. Instead of denying, he just nods reluctantly.
"You know how I know that?" Pete asks, rhetorically since he continues without even looking at Brendon. "I'm over 700 years old."
Pete's staring at the ceiling thoughtfully but he'd probably be amused by Brendon's reaction, which is his eyes bugging nearly out of his head and his neck dropping forward in disbelief. "Wow," Brendon manages eventually. "That's really old." And finally, since it can't hurt to ask now that Pete knows that Brendon's mostly clueless- "Is that a demon thing? To live that long?"
Pete laughs in the way that he always does at Brendon's questions and Brendon wonders just how long Pete's been letting him stumble around in the dark. "Demons' lifespans are pretty similar to humans. So no."
"Oh," Brendon says, allowing himself to feel stupid for a second before curiosity takes over again. "Magic then?"
"Magic," Pete confirms, his face momentarily wistful and sad in a type of emotion that Brendon wasn't sure Pete was capable of possessing or at least expressing.
"Of course. Youth potion or something like that?"
In a second, Pete's expression is again its mix of sarcastic, tired and warm. "How cliche. And nonexistent- no such thing. If it was that easy, anyone would just whip it up in a heartbeat," Pete grimaces a little at the idea. "It's more of a restoration spell. Takes a few years of practice to master and more effort to actually perform than most people want to put in three times a week."
"You practiced three times a week?" That didn't sound like very much and for a second Brendon has visions of how accomplished he could be if he spent a few hours a week on spells instead of homework.
Pete interrupts any daydreaming. "I have to perform the spell three times a week, check to make sure my body's not aging or breaking down, fix any mistakes it's making. You walked in on my usual Tuesday."
And at that, Brendon waits for questions about what he's doing there, why he's sneaking around the closed shop, but they never come. Pete's gazing off at the hearts on the shelf behind Brendon, looking not entirely awake still.
"It's tiring," he says finally. "I'm tired. Can I just-" He leans forward and Brendon catches him as Pete almost takes a nosedive into the ground. Brendon props him up on his shoulder, scooting across the floor so that they're sitting side-by-side. Pete's head nestles into Brendon's side.
"Why would you want to live forever then, if it's so difficult?" Brendon asks, accepting Pete's explanation of the magic at face-value because he really doesn't know enough to have any grounds to question it.
"Not forever," Pete says and leans his head against Brendon's shoulder with a soft groan. "If there's one thing that living this long has taught me, it's that I never want to live forever."
They're both silent, Pete letting it sit ominously and Brendon waiting for him to continue because that wasn't much of an answer.
Finally, Pete takes a raspy breath. "I was in love, when I was young."
Brendon 'hmm's in what he hopes is an appropriately thoughtful and encouraging manner. At this point, it probably doesn't even matter to Pete- he's not really listening to Brendon, too far gone on tiredness to function very well at listening along with talking.
"He was so fucking perfect," Pete says and Brendon doesn't bother to hide his surprise at the pronoun's gender because Pete's not paying any attention to him. Brendon should probably be disgusted or disappointed, but Pete already challenges every belief that Brendon was brought up with and he's almost not surprised to find him twisting another one. "And that was it for me. I didn't need anything else in the world, just us. Fucking made for each other."
"Yeah?"
Pete snorts an ugly sound. "Yeah. Perfect, until he went and got sick. I was off on business for my parents and he was all but dead by the time I got back-" Brendon flinches a little at the bitter tone. "I couldn't even save him- I bet you didn't know that demons are usually pretty good at healing magic, huh? Doesn't seem like it with all the bad press we get. Deserved press, questionable demon morals and all that. Good healers though."
Pete makes a small, pained noise. "But we can't tap into our power until adulthood and I was too young, too stupid and maybe if I'd just been a little older or stronger or..."
Pete sighs against Brendon's neck and Brendon squeezes his shoulder, unsure of what to say.
"I got to see him die at least," Pete says and Brendon can feel the smile of lips against his neck and the rising hairs there in response to the shiver that runs through him ominously. But Pete doesn't sound threatening or frightening. "It meant I could say goodbye. And tag his heart."
"Tag?" Brendon murmurs.
"Demon ability. I can tell every time he's reincarnated, just not where to find his heart. But it'll keep other demons away and if his heart ever shows up in the shop, I'll know. I've looked at enough people's heartache to recognize my own."
Brendon squeezes Pete's shoulder again. He's never been the type for spoken comfort, but Pete doesn't look like he'd be able to withstand the cuddling that Brendon usually uses to soothe. A gentle squeeze and tucking his head on top of Pete's is as close as Brendon can get.
"His heart's been reincarnated a few times over." Brendon doesn't question this concept of reincarnation, not when Pete's spilling out personal details that Brendon will never find in any book on magic or spells or potions. This is more important and rarer than that. "And- I saw him, twice. He was a girl once and I didn't even recognize him until it was too late and then I couldn't track him down again. And the other time..."
Pete stops short, face closed and body folded in on itself. Brendon's not sure what to do, other than pat helplessly at Pete's back in an attempt at comfort. Finally, Pete shakes off whatever cloak of sad silence had enveloped him. "Well, the first time wasn't the only time I let him die," he says finally. He stares off into space for a moment but Brendon doesn't poke at the freshly-exposed wound.
Finally, Pete's eyelids are drooping more than they're staying open and Brendon helps lay him down on the floor. "You can sleep. I'll stay here and keep an eye on the store until you wake up."
Brendon suspects that Pete would have put up a fight if he'd had the energy to even keep his eyes open. Instead he rests complacently enough on the hard floor, one hand tucked under his head.
Brendon rests his hand on top of Pete's cheek for a second, gently, before leaving to watch the front of the store and work on his homework.
Pete comes out an hour or so later, looking tired but not nearly as drained and lets Brendon take a new heart. They don't talk about anything that Pete told him but Pete takes Ryan's heart without the usual teasing word or comment.
*****
She has brown eyes, a slightly curved nose and straight hair dyed blue and dirty blonde.
Most of the heartless that Brendon's met so far (Sandra and Rachel, at least) have a certain look of vague fuzziness to them, like their bodies are there but their eyes are those smeared chalky pastels he drew with in kindergarten. But there's definitely something harder in this girl, in the way her hands rest deceptively gentle on her hips as she eyes him. He wants to place his hands where hers are and he wonders if that's the point.
"Who are you supposed to be?" she asks.
"Brendon, uh, Urie," he says like an idiot. He's surprised to find that he's nervous. Luckily, he'd already thrown up outside into a trashcan in the hallway before wandering into the open door of the swanky hotel, so there's no nervous nausea bubbling up.
"And why the hell are you here?"
She's a little frightening, Brendon decides, in a thrilling way. "Why are you living in a hotel?" he asks instead of answering, because he doesn't really have an answer other than 'messing around with things I shouldn't'.
She gives the room a cursory look. "I don't live here, dumbass. I came out for the weekend."
She answered his question so it's only fair he returns the favor. "I have your heart."
He's prepared for the girl to laugh outright at that- he's pretty sure that Pete made some horrible mistake and maybe only bottled part of this girl's heart or something, if that's even possible. She looks far too flamboyantly angry. And the rest of the heartless have all accepted his presence without question, so either she's faking her surprise or something's wrong.
Her lips twist into a frown before she turns away, yawning in a bored way. It's so overdramatic that Brendon can only assume it's fake as she walks to the couch against the window overlooking the Strip. "Oh, is that all?"
Brendon shrugs- it's never been a question with any of the other heartless.
"Well, since you've introduced yourself, I guess you can know that I'm Audrey Kitching," she says like it should mean something to him. Brendon nods, trying to look impressed and she waves him over, tapping the spot next to her on the couch with her foot to indicate that he should sit. "How's Pete doing?"
Brendon perches on the couch and sinks into the cushions, but he looks up at her question. In retrospect, it's probably odd that no one else has asked about Pete before, but they've all been too busy asking about their own heart, not worrying about the person that took it from them.
"He's good. Lonely," Brendon says. He's not sure how he knows that when he's only met Pete a few times but. He does.
"Yeah, who isn't?" Audrey frowns prettily, looking out the window. "He needs a pet or an assistant or something."
Brendon wonders if they're still talking about Pete. He nods slowly in agreement.
Audrey twirls a piece of multicolored hair around her finger, looking at it thoughtfully. "I'm thinking about dying my hair pink. Maybe a little black in it, but mostly pink."
Brendon thinks that it would make her look even more like a cartoon than she already does, but Pete's kind of cartoon-y himself, although in a too-large for life way than in the obnoxiously-colored way that Audrey is. "That'd be cool," he says finally, because it would be. He doesn't know anyone else with pink hair, but she could pull it off probably.
"Yeah, it'd look badass," she says with an air of finality, flipping her hair through her fingers before looking up at Brendon through her eyelashes. "So, Brendon, a little young in life to be shopping for hearts, don't you think? You've probably got a few more years before you should give up on finding love the old fashioned way, right? Or wait-" she laughs. "Please tell me you're looking for some girl's heart because you think she's the love of your life."
It seems a little ironic that she's commenting on his age, coming from a girl who probably isn't any older than he is. She doesn't look like she'd be truly amused by his answer, more like it would just give her something more to tease and fight him with, so Brendon just answers with the truth.
"I'm just looking for my grandpa's heart. I think he sold it to Pete and I'm looking for it," Brendon answers.
Audrey looks a little putout by that although she does arch one well-plucked eyebrow. "You think he sold it to him? There aren't many heart-dealers anywhere near Pete, so where else would his heart be if he did sell it?"
Brendon hadn't known that but he hasn't thought too much about the logistics of it all. He's been kind of avoiding thinking too hard about it, actually, because it's only a good reason (excuse) to keep hanging around Pete's shop as long as he doesn't question it too much. "Well, I don't know, he might not have sold him his heart. But he had a card for Pete's store hidden so I figured it must have been something like that."
That's a good enough answer for Audrey, who nods knowingly. "That sounds suspicious enough. Who would have sold his heart though?"
"I thought that he had to sell his own heart?"
Audrey jumps on that so quickly that it's pretty obvious she's more interested in flaunting her knowledge than working out Brendon's grandpa's reasoning. "What? You thought a person had to give away their own heart?" She laughs but it's less amused than Pete's laughter when Brendon says something that should be obvious, and more mean. "That wouldn't be a very good business. How many people would willingly give up their heart?"
Brendon shrugs- everyone he's met so far, even if Ryan lied about it, and for a variety of reasons- but he does feel a little stupid too.
"I mean, sometimes it's worth it, but most people don't have the guts for that. They just want to love everyone that comes along and let them-" she gestures grandly, like there's something that she can't quite describe in words and only in large movement. "Walk all over them, weigh them down."
"Did you sell your heart?" Brendon asks, because he knows Audrey will tell him.
She doesn't disappoint, although she does look at him suspiciously for a second before nodding casually. "I'm not scared of not being in love."
Brendon isn't known for being perceptive and he knows he usually isn't, but even he can tell that what Audrey's more afraid of is actually being in love.
"Why would you even need that anyways? It's only going to hold you back," she says contemptuously and it's easier to just nod along and let her talk. "I mean, I'm glad I made the decision so no one else did it for me."
"So people can just sell someone else's heart?" Brendon asks and Audrey looks for a second like she'd forgotten he was there, or at least capable of talking.
"Not just anyone. You can only sell a heart that you own- because it's yours or because that person's in love with you. Makes being in love seem stupid, right?" She snorts contemptuously and in a way that isn't very ladylike, although neither is the way she's sitting with her legs spread open from the knees down. "It makes you so weak and vulnerable- stupid enough to let anyone control you." She looks at him curiously. "Didn't you even look this stuff up before you came to Pete? I thought you had to know what you were getting into when you bought from him."
"Well, I haven't actually bought anything yet," Brendon says, and that's the truth. "And I know some stuff. Enough."
"Apparently not."
Brendon steers the conversation back into safer waters- she's starting to look suspicious. "Most people love and they're doing alright. Selling your own heart seems kind of extreme."
"Most people are stupid fucks," Audrey replies easily. "They'll convince you that they matter more to you than your own dreams. I'm not giving up what I want for anyone else."
"What do you want?"
Audrey's eyes light up a little at that and her face softens. "I'm a model," she informs him. "And I got that because I wouldn't let anyone step on me to get there."
"But you-"
"Don't love it anymore? Can't love it anymore? Doesn't matter. Doesn't mean I don't want it." She picks invisible lint off her skirt and Brendon watches her rake her nails over the tops of thighs gently. "At one point, I wanted it so badly I could taste it. You don't forget how that feels."
Brendon nods, even if he's not exactly sure he gets it. After all, he's got a whole lifetime of emotion ahead of him; he hasn't spent too much time on introspection and even when he wants something, desires it more than anything else, he knows that there could always be another something around the corner.
Audrey doesn't really have that option though, he guesses. Maybe the taste of old desire is as good as it gets for her- for them. Still-
"You must hope that someone's going to buy your heart," Brendon says, thinking of Rachel.
Audrey shakes her head harder than necessary, her bangs sliding around on her forehead messily. "I don't hope anything," she says, chin set defiantly. "Besides, who wants to owe the person that buys it? That's not love anyways- that's obligation. And seriously, fuck that."
And Brendon ...agrees. He thinks that the whole thing sounds more romantic than it really is, because either way you're screwing someone over. That's all heart-dealing is; a long line of someone continuously getting screwed over.
"My advice? Don't buy your grandpa's heart," she says with a surprisingly thoughtful look. "You don't seem like the type of person that could exchange someone's heart for his."
Brendon's not sure if he should take that as a compliment, mostly because he doesn't understand what she means by that, until Audrey erases any nice sentiment that might have with a smirk. "Or the type that could convince someone to fall in love with you, so good luck if that's what you're really after- that grandpa story seems like bullshit."
Brendon wants to defend himself but then Audrey leans forward, smacks a kiss to his cheek that Brendon can feel is slick with lipgloss, and says "Bye Brendon."
*****
Brendon stops by the grocery store because his mom wanted him to grab some carrots and he's standing in line at the U-Scan when he sees a familiar head of styled brown hair belonging to someone swiping a bag of chips across the scanner.
"Ryan! Hey!"
Ryan glances over and looks around in confusion. Brendon waves and Ryan's eyes light on him, looking a little stunned.
Brendon's suddenly aware that he's grinning. He can feel it slipping into an awkwardly-pasted smile as Ryan just stares at him. He definitely recognizes Brendon but makes no move to acknowledge him and Brendon is reminded that they didn't meet, speak or part on good terms, so why the hell would Ryan welcome him with open arms?
A slightly rounded boy looks over at Brendon over Ryan's shoulder and then nudges his elbow questioningly. Ryan blinks and then looks back at his friend and Brendon quickly moves out of the U-Scan line and into a cashier's line to spare himself any further embarrassment.
He grips the bag of carrots tightly and deliberately doesn't look back over at the U-Scan, like maybe if he can't see Ryan then he'll think that Brendon just disappeared and save them both from further awkwardness. He counts down from fifty before he can safely look over but he only gets to 37 when Ryan touches him lightly on the elbow.
"Uh, hey, Brendon right?" Ryan glances over at the boy he was with, who's watching curiously but with a determined look. "You surprised me."
Brendon admittedly doesn't know Ryan very well, but he's pretty sure that's as close to an apology as he's going to get. "It's cool- I mean, I didn't except to see you again so I just kind of." Blurted out his name? Brendon shrugs helplessly.
"No, yeah, I didn't think we'd run into each other again. You live in Summerlin?"
"Yeah," Brendon says. "Maybe ten minutes from here."
Ryan nods and keeps his eye on his friend, who's leaning on a display of candy bars and watching them pointedly.
"Small world," Brendon offers and Ryan glances back at him, smiling the tiniest amount.
"Yeah, apparently," he replies and Brendon wonders at what a little sleep will do for a person's disposition. Ryan doesn't look entirely happy to be there but at least he doesn't look like he's going to snap and tear Brendon's throat out.
It's almost like they're classmates or acquaintances or something other than... whatever label would describe how they know each other.
"Well, this is awkward," Brendon acknowledges brightly.
Ryan nods, shoulders hunched a little in his own discomfort although he straightens himself a little when the other boy finally comes over, eying Ryan before turning to Brendon. "You're buying from Pete?"
Brendon's eyes cut to Ryan for explanation- they're not supposed to talk about heart-dealing with anyone, so who is this kid that Ryan gets to share his secrets while Brendon's kept quiet?- but Ryan shrugs uncomfortably, deflecting any responsibility. When the other guy clears his throat, Brendon's attention turns back to him, reluctant to answer.
"I know about Pete," the kid reassures him, although his body is tilted in a challenging posture. "And I'm guessing that's how you know Ryan since you don't look like a private school snob."
Ryan smirks a little at that, looking at the other kid and exchanging a briefly amused look with him.
"Yeah," Brendon answers, breaking up the inside joke. "Not really the private school type."
The kid eyes him up and down and while he doesn't look angry or sharp like Ryan does, his face is serious and considering and Brendon tries not to slouch uncomfortably. Finally, he seems satisfied with his inspection and turns to Ryan expectantly. His eyebrows raise questioningly, gaze darts to Brendon and Ryan rolls his head in a half-nodded response. Brendon watches the exchange with a curiosity and cluelessness akin to his reaction to wildlife shows on the Discovery Channel.
"I'm Brendon," he offers and that seems to be the right approach because the other boy's face brightens a little and softens from its seriousness.
"Spencer." Brendon holds his hand out to shake because that's what he always does with his parent's friends at Church. Spencer looks down at it, brow wrinkled. Brendon feels like an utter freak of nature (a common occurrence) until Spencer grabs his hand with a look of 'why not' on his face and shakes.
Ryan doesn't make a move to facilitate the introductions, but Brendon gets the feeling that he's just socially oblivious that way and it's not anything against Brendon. Spencer doesn't seem to mind at least, taking the bag of groceries from Ryan's hands and bumping against his shoulder.
"We have to get these back home or my sisters are going to riot."
"Slumber party," Ryan explains and Brendon nods knowingly.
"Yeah, don't let me keep you guys. Wouldn't want to cause family warfare," Brendon says.
Spencer waves as they turn to leave. "Nice to meet you, Brendon."
"Yeah, definitely. And, uh, good to see you Ryan," Brendon says.
Ryan's head bobs in the smallest of nods but he smiles a little before turning to look at Spencer as they leave. The cashier looks at Brendon impatiently over the register and he hands over the carrots belatedly without really minding her glare.
*****
Pete's shop is empty when Brendon goes to return Audrey's heart and Brendon isn't going to bother to linger at the front of the store if there's no reason to. Pete glances up when Brendon spots him behind the counter and frowns so darkly that Brendon freezes.
"Okay," Pete says, rising up from his seat behind the counter. "Here's the thing. You seem like a good kid and you're okay to have around the shop, but you can't keep pulling this shit."
Brendon's not sure if this is a joke or not- Pete looks serious enough but it's not like Brendon knows him very well. Well enough for Pete to spill his secrets in a moment of weakness but not close enough to tell joking from serious apparently.
Brendon decides to be cautious. "What?"
"If you were really looking for a specific heart, you would have found it by now. Fifth time's not a charm, kid. So why are you really sneaking around here all the time?"
Pete doesn't take a step forward but he suddenly seems much bigger and Brendon shrinks back instinctively, shoulder hitting a shelf. He glances around for an escape route but Pete is still standing behind the counter so there's nothing to run from yet. He's still short and has straightened hair, but suddenly those tattoos that Brendon thought were pretty sweet are a little menacing and his smile isn't friendly. He looks like his mother's worst nightmare and Brendon, for once, actually isn't enthused by that. Brendon might not know what he did wrong, but he does know not to fuck with a demon.
For the second time since he's met Pete, Brendon's afraid of him.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," Brendon hedges.
And the thing is, he really doesn't. Although- there has been a sneaking suspicion resting in the back of Brendon's mind that maybe he was a little quick to draw conclusions about his grandpa's involvement with Pete's store. After all, he runs a bigger business than just the heart-dealing. His grandpa could have been buying a book for all Brendon knows.
"What are you really doing here?" Pete has never looked so menacing, Brendon thinks. "Looking to bust someone for being involved with heart-dealing? Because my ass is better covered than you can imagine, kid."
"I don't know what you mean!" Brendon repeats, shaking his head in denial of whatever he's being accused of. "I'm just looking for my grandpa's heart, man. I don't know why I can't find it but I'm not... doing anything!"
Pete eyes him. "You're really just looking for his heart?"
Brendon nods fervently.
Pete stares him down, expression closed, for an eternity.
"I wasn't messing with you when I said you should have been able to find his heart," Pete says finally. "If you know the person at all, you should be able to pick their heart out of a bunch of strangers'."
"Well, I mean, he died when I was kind of young so it wasn't like he were close or anything," Brendon offers.
Pete stares at him.
"Your grandpa's dead?"
Brendon feels like he's missing something. "Uh, yeah? He, uh, has been for a while."
Pete is still looking at Brendon like he's grown a second head, but something is dawning on him. "You're looking for a dead person's heart?"
Brendon shrugs and nods hesitantly. What's wrong with that?
Something, obviously, since Pete bursts into laughter that seems more enlightened than truly amused. "No wonder you couldn't find it." He takes a deep breath and expels it in a bemused sound. "Once someone dies, their heart gets reincarnated and the stuff in those jars just turns to dust. Poof."
"What?"
Pete shakes his head. "Everyone knows this stuff, kid." And Brendon feels a lot younger and more clueless than he has in years. "That's what all those cloudy jars in the back are."
Brendon remembers what Pete had told him about that guy's heart. "Yeah, well, I know you said that your heart supposedly get reincarnated and stuff but." The Church doesn't believe in that so technically Brendon isn't supposed to give it much serious thought. "I thought maybe the hearts got... trapped? In the jars?"
And instead of laughing it off like everything else, that seems to trouble Pete a little. He shrugs, frowning minutely. "They're not really 'trapped', but I guess that's one way of looking at it."
"So if they're not really trapped..."
"Their hearts can't be fully reincarnated and the person who was supposed to be born with their heart is a little... stunted, emotionally. It's not as bad as being actually heartless, but they can't feel things like a normal person could. Their emotions are dull, they don't really completely love people..." Pete trails off for a second." It wears off the more times the heart is reincarnated- you can't keep anything metaphysical trapped for too long and eventually it just leaks back into the world." Pete wiggles his fingers for emphasis. "But that first cycle without a full heart is kind of rough."
Brendon doesn't like the sound of that. He doesn't want to provoke Pete by asking for clarification though, so he just watches Pete pace until he suddenly looks up at Brendon.
"So you're really not fucking with me?"
"No, I'm really not fucking with you," Brendon says and Pete's eyes crinkle up a little like he's laughing when Brendon says 'fuck' and okay, maybe Brendon put a little too much force behind the word but it's not something he's used to being allowed to say.
"As long as you're sure-" Brendon nods emphatically. "Well okay. No harm in that then. Excuse the accusations- I just have to make sure you're not sniffing around here and looking to turn me in to the cops or something."
Brendon relaxes only in fractions but Pete seems to think that all is forgiven. He sits back down on his stool and goes back to reading his magazine. Brendon lingers, but the conversation is apparently over, as far as Pete's concerned. Matter's settled, case closed. Brendon's not really sure what conclusion they reached.
He rights a book that fell when he bumped into the shelf and then tilts his head back to stare at the high shelves.
If his grandpa's heart is a lost cause (or maybe not even sold to Pete in the first place), then there's really no reason for Brendon to be here. Maybe that's the conclusion that Pete reached.
Or- it's not that Brendon doesn't have a reason to be here, really, since he can think of a million reasons why he should be here, wants to be here. He just doesn't have an excuse anymore.
There's a light covering of dust on the higher shelves and Brendon runs his fingers over the spines of books and pinches the fuzzy specks between his fingers. Pete makes a small noise, clears his throat, and Brendon leans back between the aisles to look at him but Pete's still absorbed in his magazine, one hand propping up his head as the other flips pages slowly.
Brendon stays in his line of sight for a few seconds longer, hopeful, but there's nothing more from Pete. Brendon slinks back into the aisle, absorbing the way the sun shines off the feathers of a dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling before nodding resolutely to himself, squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat loudly.
Pete doesn't look up until Brendon's coughing very deliberately into his fist and swaying with impatience in front of the counter, and then he looks surprised and confused. "What's up?"
"So, I guess that's it then? The heart I'm looking for isn't back there?" Brendon gestures vaguely and then belatedly looks over his shoulder to make sure no one sees him pointing at the storeroom.
Pete shakes his head casually. "Nope. Even if I had it at one point, I don't anymore if he's dead."
"Oh," Brendon says, feeling a little numb. "I guess... I should go then?"
Pete's gaze narrows on him, thoughtful. He folds his magazine and leans over the counter, arms folded on the surface. "Nobody's chasing you away. But if you need to go, yeah, what you're looking for isn't here."
He's wrong there. Brendon needs to stay. He has to go, because he's sure that one day his mom will be able to somehow see traces of magic on his skin and then Brendon will be in the deepest shit of his life. But he needs, with his whole being, to stay, even if his mother would cry and the Church would be mad, because what he's looking for? It's here.
Brendon nods jerkily, puts Audrey's heart on the counter, and leaves.
*****
Brendon feels more isolated from his family now that he doesn't have Pete- it makes it even more apparent how far his views have diverged from his parents. They aren't seeing the world in the same way anymore, which seemed like a rebellious and exciting concept when he had Pete on his side and now is just lonely.
Brendon knows that he's done with the Church. He doesn't have the balls yet to tell anyone but he knows in his head and in his heart that he's not made for that faith.
He sits at dinner with his mom and dad on either end of the table, picks at his food and tries to imagine how they would take it. Disbelief, maybe, and probably anger because that's not really something he's supposed to joke about. But he can't even begin to imagine how they would react if they took him seriously and he doesn't really want to think about what would happen. So he keeps quiet and tries not to feel especially lonely in church knowing that he doesn't have Pete's shop to escape to or anyone to talk to about this.
Brendon knows he doesn't have very many friends, so there's no support system outside of his family. If they reject him, there's nowhere for him to go.
Jon's the only person that Brendon could tell about all of this but that would probably mean explaining Pete and the hearts and Brendon knows that isn't physically possible. He'd tried once, in a fit of desperation and frustration the day after he'd walked out of Pete's shop, to tell his lab partner in Chemistry about the hearts and she'd stared at him weirdly before answering that no, she didn't watch very much Family Guy.
And that makes him miss Pete's sense of humor and Brendon excuses himself to the bathroom where he sits in a stall with his head on his knees. (Part Four)