Fic: Everyone Comes To Pan's Part Five
Everyone Comes To Pan's
Part Five
“This is fucking ridiculous.” Frank staggered under the weight of the armour on his back and front, the dull edges of his ill-fitting breast plate digging into his sides and the narrow neck almost choking him.
“I look like I’m gate crashing a Ren Faire, not saving the mother fucking world.”
Gerard pulled the leather strap on his shoulder tighter and handed him his gauntlets.
“You look great,” Gerard said.
“I can’t see,” Frank said as the tinny sound of his voice ricocheted around inside the too large helm.
Gerard lifted up the visor and peered in. “What? I can’t really hear you that well out here.”
“Oh for fuck’s -” The visor closed on Frank’s retort. He reached up, slowly - those vambrace things were fucking heavy - and pushed up the visor himself.
“I said, this is fucking ridiculous. I can hardly move; I can’t fucking see. I mean, I might be wrong, but I’m fairly sure you have to be able to see to defeat things, right?”
Frank felt Gerard futzing around with the strap under his chin keeping the helm on, followed by the unique joy of having 20 pounds of Faerie steel lifted off his head.
“Thank you,” he said, and glared at Gerard. Gerard stared. He pressed himself closer to Frank, slipping his fingers inside the chain mail of the coif covering Frank’s head and pushing it back.
“You - You used to do this all the time,” he said, smoothing his thumb over Frank’s brow and down to his cheek. He smiled. “You were like, like the king of the dragon slayers.” He turned away and started fiddling with a scabbard and sword on the shelf next to him.
Frank felt a surge of relief, which was quickly washed away by cold hard reason. He pointed at Gerard, who cut him a quick, sheepish look from the corner of his eye. “I so wasn't, was I?” Frank hissed with narrow eyes.
Gerard had the good grace to look embarrassed. “No? But...”
“Oh my God,” Frank groaned again. “Oh my fucking God.”
Gerard wrung his hands, patted Frank’s armour, and wrung his hands again.
“It’s not so hard,” Gerard said. “You know. It’s like I said that day when we were playing B&A. They’re really lazy. It probably wont want to fight you.”
The building shook all around them, the air clamoring with the sound of the Dragon’s roar.
Frank gave Gerard a look that he hoped very clearly said ‘What The Fuck?’
Gerard picked up the scabbard and fastened it around Frank’s waist. “You’re not going alone, Frankie.”
The storeroom door opened and Pete stuck his head in the door.
“It’s time, Frankie,” he said with a huge grin. “The Dragon's here. In the city. If we don't hurry, Norms will start seeing it and then we're all fucked.”
“What’s a Norm?” Frank hissed out the corner of his mouth.
“Non-Fae, humans,” Gerard hissed back.
“Fuck,” Frank breathed.
Frank started for the doorway but felt the weight of Gerard’s hand tugging him back.
“I should have told you. And now it’s too late. I should have...” He stopped and swallowed. “You have to survive, Frankie,” Gerard said. His voice was barely a whisper. “You have to come back. To me. You have to remember.”
His fingers were white with clinging so hard to Frank’s armour. Frank wanted to feel it. Wanted to feel the bruises forming under Gerard’s hands as he clung to Frank.
“I’m scared,” Frank said, but even as he said it, looking into Gerard’s eyes, he felt it a little less. He shook the gauntlets off his hands and took Gerard’s hand in his.
“Me too,” Gerard said. Frank blanched, but Gerard shook his head. “No, no, I believe in you. I just... I’m scared you still won’t know me when you come back.”
“I - I know you, Gee,” Frank whispered. “I know you.”
Gerard ran the back of his hand down Frank’s cheek. His smile was sad.
Frank turned his face into the caress. He kissed Gerard’s palm. “I can’t believe that me not remembering could destroy everything,” he hung his head.
Gerard frowned. “Because you're you, Frankie,” Gerard said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “When you're not you everything goes to shit.” Gerard kissed him, soft and sweet. And Frank could feel, everywhere, that he meant it.
*
Everything seemed to happen so fast after that. There were bows and arrows and lances handed out. Frank saw Mikey sharpening a sword and Ray struggling his way into a chain mail shirt. And then Mikey admiring Ray in the chain mail. Which, yeah, Frank had to admit, hung from Ray’s broad shoulders, fitting snugly over his big arms, a dang sight better than it did from Frank’s. As if he was born to wear it. Frank thought desperately. He jammed his ill fitting visor back further. Fuck.
And then Pete was pulling Frank out the door with Peppers close on his heels. He’d had only a second to look for Gerard, lock eyes with him, and then he was gone, pulled along by Pete, through the wild wood.
*
At the edge of the wood was the Library park.
The park was gone, of course, replaced by a rambling chaos of trees and vines.
“This wood is old,” Pete said, leaping up onto a fallen log. “Full of memory.”
Frank un hooked the stupid visor and chucked it aside. “Please tell me you’re not quoting Lord of the Rings.”
Pete cackled. “Snap! Dude, I fucking love those films. That Legolas, man, if only Elves really looked like that”
“Christ on a mother fucking stick, Pete! Can you take this a little more seriously?” Frank snapped. “I’m about to get roasted to death by fucking Godzilla.” Frank lent against a tree trunk. The armour was really heavy and Frank was really, really fucking ticked off.
Pete leaped lightly down from the log and undid Frank’s helm. He lifted it off Frank’s head and threw it to one side.
“I am taking this seriously, Frankie. This is as serious as I ever get.” He grinned. “I’m a trickster god. I can’t show you how I really feel. That’d give the game away.”
Frank slumped. Peppers whined and put a paw on top of his foot. Frank leaned down and stroked her head. She turned to Pete.
Not far now, right Pan?
“No,” Pete said to the chihuahua. “Not far, Princess.”
“Okay,” Frank said, hauling himself up again. “Okay.” And the three of them ran on towards the roar of the Dragon.
As they broke through into a clearing, Frank felt the wind kick up. A storm was brewing, blotting out the sunlight, and the air was heady with ions. Ahead, the Library loomed, it’s crenelations and spires piercing the iron sky. The gargoyles screeched and clawed the air, and wan lights flickered in the windows. The great iron studded doors stood wide open.
“That’s the gateway!” Pete called, the wind whipping away his voice. “The door to Faerie! You need to close it before Midsummer.”
Well, Frank knew how to close a door. That he could do.
What Frank didn’t know how to do was destroy the 20 foot tall, black scaled, flame snorting, red toothed thing standing between himself and it.
The beast lifted it’s craggy head and belched fire in an angry arc across the sky.
Frank pulled his sword from the scabbard at his hip. He looked at it, and then back up at the Dragon.
“I’m gonna need a bigger sword,” Frank said, swallowing tightly.
“No you don’t. You can do it, you just have to believe!” Pete shouted into the wind. “Oh, no wait, that's the other thing. Fuck. I don't know. Throw something at it!”
The creature saw them then. It lumbered down from the portico of the Library towards them.
Frank shook off one gauntlet and threw it. It bounded off the dragon’s hide and landed at Pete’s feet.
Frank looked at Pete; Pete shrugged. “It was worth a shot!”
Frank took a deep breath and ran forward. He could hear Peppers yapping and snarling, and through a tiny slit in the visor he saw her darting in and worrying at one of the Dragon’s massive talons.
Frank yelled and dashed after her, but was forced back by an arc of fire from the beast’s massive nostrils. “No!” Frank screamed as Peppers disappeared behind a wall of flame.
The beast didn’t even see her, but as it took a step closer to Frank, it flicked Peppers aside like swatting a gnat. Her little golden body tumbled in the air and landed in a crumpled heap. She didn’t move.
Frank ran to her, and Pete tried to distract the Dragon, leaping in the air and calling it names.
Frank ran a gentle hand over her and she whimpered. He couldn’t feel any breaks. “Thank fuck,” he hissed. “Baby girl, can you hear me?”
He’s bigger than he looks. Peppers sighed, and passed out.
Frank dragged himself back to his feet. This was fucking ridiculous. He started hauling off the armour.
He didn’t know who he had been, he didn’t know who he was going to be at the end of this. But he knew who he fucking was right now. And it was not Prince fucking Valiant or who the fuck ever.
He threw the armour to one side and shrugged off the chain mail vest. Underneath he still had on his jeans and Bob’s denim jacket, that’d have to do for protection. He kept the chain coif on, coz secretly he thought it was kind of bad-ass. But everything else had to go.
Pete landed next to him. “Take her!” Frank yelled, handing Peppers’ to him.. Pete picked her up and made for the edge of the Forest. “Okay,” Frank said to himself, adjusting his grip on the sword. “Lets show this fucker who’s boss.”
Frank turned and faced the beast.
He ran forward, darting in behind its lumbering tail and dodging the grabbing claws. Nipping in beneath it’s wing he hacked at the back of its leg. The sword bounced off the scales uselessly and Frank was thrown back, into the Beast’s reach.
He felt its claws close around him, and he was lifted into the air even as the air was crushed out of him.
He rained blows down onto the thing’s talon but it made no difference. It held Frank up to it’s great, red eye. Which, when Frank thought about it, was kind of a rookie mistake.
He threw back his arm and stabbed at the eye with his sword.
The creature screamed - which didn’t make Frank feel all that good. The Dragon hadn’t started this fight and now Frank had just hauled off and blinded it. He was seriously the worst vegetarian ever.
He felt really sorry for it, right up until it dropped him from 20 feet up, and Frank landed in a heap on the stone steps.
“Gah!” Frank had seconds to roll out of the way of a plume of flame snorted straight at him.
“Oh fuck you, dragon breath,” Frank yelled, but the wind whipped his voice away.
The Dragon reared back and Frank could tell it was about to let loose another plume when its shoulder flinched, like it’d been stung.
Frank looked around and at the edge of the clearing was Mikey - who definitely did the Prince Valiant thing proud - firing on the Dragon with a bow and Ray next to him, twirling what looked like a sling shot above his head, his chain mail glittering in the flash of the fire.
Frank staggered to his feet and ran for the trees.
The wind grabbed and pushed at him, and there was a horrible tearing noise. Frank looked behind him to see his own shadow being ripped away.
From the edge of the trees, Pete sprang forward and grabbed it, dragging it back by it’s heel. He rolled it up and tucked it into Frank’s pocket. Frank’s heart hammered in his chest.
“You should get that sewn back on as soon as you can.” He leaned in close and whispered, “If you survive and all. Sorry.” Pete made an apologetic face and shrugged.
Frank rolled his eyes. “Fuck,” he shouted.
“Frank!” Frank turned and saw Mikey darting towards them, head down as he forced his way into the gale.
The Dragon growled when it saw Mikey, and reared up. Its breath was hot and fierce and stank of roasted flesh. It was terrible to behold, and Frank felt his fear rise up in him like a wave of white cold ice.
Frank turned to Mikey and shook his head. “I can’t do it,” he said, and Mikey just frowned back at him.
“Hold on Frankie,” he shouted, his voice barely louder than the wind. “Gee is coming.”
The Dragon lumbered forward again, snapping its great red maw at them, belching huge plumes of ash and smoke into the air. Frank held up his sword, but it was no use.
The Dragon unfurled its mighty wings and flapped them against the air, Frank stumbled back. It roared a column of fire. But before it could lurch forwards and attack, it fell back.
“That’s right, asshole,” a voice behind Frank said, louder than the wind, and a million times more dear. “Back the fuck up.”
Frank turned and Gerard was there. On a horse. And in tights. Firing arrow after arrow into the Dragon’s hide.
“Where the fuck did you get a horse?!” Frank cried.
“He’s a Sylph, Frank,” Pan said, picking Frank up and dusting him off, as if that was some kind of explanation. Gerard galloped past them, and Pete stood back, clapping.
Frank blinked. Gerard was born for chain mail and heraldic tunics too, it seemed. As he parried the Dragon’s attacks, dodging and weaving, firing on the beast the whole time, he seemed greater somehow, taller and more noble.
“Wow... he, um... really suits the whole knight in shining armour thing.” Frank stammered.
“Well,” Mikey said, raising his own bow and knocking an arrow into it. “He is the leader of the Wild Hunt. And, I don't know if you noticed, but he's kind of a show-off.” He loosed his shot, and it lanced the Dragon’s neck.
Gerard rode forward, too close for arrows, which he threw the bow aside, and drew his sword.
He swiped the creature’s tail and it reared back again.
“Dude,” Mikey yelled at Frank. “This elf shot’s doing nothing to slow the Dragon down. You have to do something. That thing is gonna kill Gee!”
Mikey was right about the arrows; the beast brushed them off as if they were splinters. But Frank didn’t know what to do. He still couldn’t remember anything from his life before.
“You’re not thinking, Frank,” Mikey said, dropping his bow and grabbing Frank’s arm. “You’re not thinking Faerie.”
Frank shook his head. The image of himself from Bob’s book came to his mind. Fanciful names danced in his head.
Frank turned and saw Gerard duck as the Dragon’s tail failed towards him.
“You can save him,” Mikey said. “You know how.”
Ray, fresh from throwing stones and clods of dirt at the beast, nudged Frank’s shoulder with his own. “You do know how,” he grinned. “You were made knowing how.”
And Frank looked at Mikey. Looked right at him. Mikey was a Sylph. Like Gerard, who was still fighting the Dragon. And Brandon and Adam and Zach, they were Brownies. Ray was a Faun, and Pete, was Pan, the God of the woods. But what was Frank? What the fuck was Frank.
The Dragon reared up, twisted and swung its tail at Gerard again.
“I’m...” Frank staggered forward, clutching Mikey.
Mikey squeezed his arm. Frank looked into his eyes. Mikey nodded back.
“I’m a...” A word appeared in the air before Frank’s eyes, or maybe in his mind, or rising up from dark recess of his memory, or whatever. But it was a word, a name, a weapon.
Frank let go of Mikey and ran forward. “Gerard! I know how to defeat it!”
Gerard pulled his mount up hard and turned back at Frank and didn’t see the tail coming again. It collected him, knocking him from the horse and sending him crashing down onto the steps, far heavier than Peppers or Frank had landed. He didn’t move.
“No!” Frank screamed and sprinted, but Mikey grabbed him round the waist, hauling him back.
“Frank you can’t... you can’t help him. Not like that,” Mikey yelled.
“Gee!” Frank cried and struggled in Mikey’s grip.
Please Frank, Peppers yapped from the safety of the trees. Please.
“Oh God.” Frank tore his eyes away from Gerard’s crumpled form, back to the Dragon.
“I am going to fucking destroy you,” he cried. “Imma make you into fuckin’ shoes and fucking, a fucking belt!”
“That’s it,” Mikey said. “Tell him why!”
“Because I...”
“Go on,” yelled Ray..
“I am...”
And the wind roared and the mother fucking Dragon roared, and Frank thought maybe even Pete roared too. Above him a chink in the clouds appeared, and lance of sunlight fell across the steps of the Library. And something shifted in Frank. He breathed deep.
Say it, Frank.
“I will defeat you because I am... Puck, mother fucker,” he hollered, and the clouds rolled back, and the wind blew. “I am Puck. And you do not fuck with Puck.”
“Oh, thank Christ,” Mikey said, grabbing his hand and running towards the beast. “Your heart name and your favourite threat. That’s like double brownie points in the memory stakes. Finish him!”
The Dragon staggered back at the sound of Frank’s name as if some almight fist had socked it, right in its pointy ear. It unfurled its mighty black wings and screamed. Ray, Mikey and Frank all rushed at it with swords drawn. Chinks began showing in its scaly hide, and it seemed to shrink in on itself.
Ray drove into its hind leg with his pike, and it crumpled enough for Mikey to leap up and stick the beast in the side with his sword. While it screeched and bellowed, Frank leaped up and brought the keen edge of his blade down slicing clean through the Dragon’s neck.
Frank fell to the ground in a disgusting shower of feotid, black blood. The Dragon’s dying body writhed, pitifully, and slumped down the Library steps. It’s head rolling out into the clearing. After long, loud seconds all was still.
Frank flung the sword aside and and ran to Gerard. “Gee, God! Gee!” Frank cried, crashing to his knees at Gerard’s side.
Mikey joined him, and Ray stood a few steps down. Pete landed on the steps next to Frank and gently put Peppers on the ground beside him.
Oh no, she cried, and licked tenderly at Gerard’s hand.
“Pan!” Mikey called. “Is he...”
Pete shook his head. “He’s alive. But only just.”
“But... I killed it, the Dragon,” Frank said desperately. “That fixes everything, doesn’t it?”
Pete stood back and stroked his chin. “Well, yeah, I mean. That was the deal.” He shrugged. “But I guess, Gee screwed up.” He sighed. “That’s the problem with enchantments. If they can’t screw you one way, they’ll screw you another.”
“Enchantments...” MIkey said, his eyes fixed on Gerard. “Pan, you don’t think...” He looked at Pete.
Pete looked back and forth between the three of them. “Well, shit,” he said, with glee. “It can’t hurt!”
“What?!” Frank cried, grabbing Mikey’s hand. “What can’t hurt?”
Mikey smiled. “You remember, right? Now you do? Everything?”
Frank stared at Mikey. He had a clear picture in his mind of the tree where he was born. His mother smiling at him. Titania. Oberon. The clearing in the woods where the bonfire was built, where he first saw Gee. A man with a Donkey’s face. His first may dance. Tricking the milk maids to dance with him. Mikey’s smile, rare and precious. And Gee taking his hand. Their first kiss and every kiss after. The ribbons twined around their wrists. The flowers in Gee’s hair. Midsummer.
Frank let out a huge breath, stunned. “Yeah, I remember.”
“So, do what princes do, Puck, in all the fairy tales,” Mikey said, and he stood and moved away.
Pete cackled and flitted after him.
Peppers snuffled and covered her nose with her paw.
Frank looked down at Gerard. He remembered everything now, his lover, his soul mate, the first time Frank tasted his skin, their fingers knotted together, the sound of Gerard sighing and calling his name; The first time Frank looked into Gerard’s eyes under a midsummer moon, the bonfire light gilding his smile.
“Oh,” breathed Frank. And he bent his head and did what princes do.
He kissed his one true love.
*
“And then they all lived happily ever after...” Gerard unrolled the sewing kit and selected a long, thin needle.
Frank had made straight for the storeroom, his home in this world, he recalled. And that was where he was now, reclining on his bed of cushions as Gerard tended his wounds.
“I thought you didn’t like needles,” Frank said, arching an eyebrow and smirking. He stretched his foot out into Gerard’s lap and wriggled his toes.
Gerard grinned. “I don’t like them in me, but I can use them. In an emergency,” he said and wrinkled his nose with a smile.
Frank held out his hand and Gerard cupped his beneath it. Frank dropped something dark and moving, and Gerard caught it up and shook it out.
“Shadows, as Pan says, are not to be trusted,” laughed Gerard, and he began stitching the shadow back to Frank’s heel.
“Too right,” said Frank reclining on the pillows and watching Gerard down the length of his nose. “Mine was off at the first sign of danger. Rat bastard.”
The dark shape in Gerard’s hand tugged and yanked and tried to get away. Gerard just stroked it and pulled it back into place. “Hush,” he said. And Frank went quiet.
Things had been different after the kiss on the steps of the Library as they limped back to Pan’s, ragged, and messed up, but far from beaten.
The woods had all melted back Under The Hill, the doors to Mag Mell opened both ways again, and Chicago was its same old, bustling, Norm-filled self. No one batted an eyelash at four bloodied little guys and a limping Chihuahua trudging off the El at Oak Park and disappearing into the dark recesses of an alleyway off Mornington Cresent.
“Do they really all live happily ever after?” Frank asked, pushing himself up on his elbows and watching closely as Gerard tied a knot and bit off the Faerie silk with his teeth. Once he was done he turned his face and kissed Frank’s ankle.
“Naturally,” he sighed, and pressed another kiss, higher up, on Frank’s bare calf.
Pan’s had felt a little different too, bigger, and glossier, somehow. There were faces at the tables Frank had never seen, doorways in and out of the café that hadn’t been there before. But Frank knew what they were and where they led. Frank remembered them.
Frank sighed. “No sudden Dragon attacks, or evil enchantments?”
“None,” whispered Gerard, kissing and licking at the soft skin on the inside of Frank’s knee.
“And what about term deposits?” Frank said with a sigh of his own as Gerard moved up his leg, caressing and kissing his inner thigh. “They have much to do with them?”
“Never heard of ‘em,” Gerard breathed, before trailing the tip of his tongue up Frank’s belly.
Frank remembered...
Gerard stretched out above Frank and smiled. “Well, my prince. You’re all shadowed up and ready to party.”
...And Gerard was the best memory of all.
Frank giggled. “Or...”
“Or nothing. It’s Midsummer. Puck’s night. Your night. You’re the guest of honor.” Gerard pushed himself away. “We can come back here later,” he purred. “If you’re very, very good.”
Frank swallowed. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and hauled himself off the bed.
*
The boys had really out done themselves with the decorations in the café. Lanterns filled with firefly pixies, and garlands of flowers festooned every entrance. The ceiling glittered with stars, and the walls shone with them too.
The raucous sounds of Brandon, Adam, Zach and Keenan bashing about on Faerie instruments on a little stage in the corner greeted them when they entered the café, as did the sight of Ray twirling Mikey around the dance floor, his hooves clipping and clopping in time with the music.
Pete was dancing too, with a little blond sprite Frank was having trouble placing. They danced past. “But you look like a Tinkerbell,” he heard Pete say. And Frank only just caught the sound of the sprite sighing and saying, “Yes, but my name is Patrick,” as they spun past.
In the corner Frank spotted Bob, bailed up a little against the wall by Ray’s bearded dragon, and Keenan’s ferret. Frank promised himself he’d go and rescue him in a second. He giggled to himself.
Peppers and Raisin were chasing each other’s tails while Mikey’s cat, Dewees, watched on with amused detachment. Welcome back, Frankie, he purred as Frank passed.
“Thanks!” Frank chimed.
And because it was his party, his welcome home, someone handed him a goblet and the heady scent of mead rose up from it. Frank took a deep swig and smacked his lips.
http://www.livejournal.com/editjournal.bml?journal=roxy_palace&itemid=105867
Frank turned and Gerard was there. His burnished skin shone, and his eyes glittered. Someone had put flowers in his hair, and he was wearing a shirt made of green leaves. And he looked perfect.
Frank twined his arms around Gerard’s waist and looked up into his eyes. Gerard smiled, and leaning down he kissed Frank, licking his way into Frank’s mouth, stroking their tongues together. After some seconds he pulled back. “Happy Midsummer, Frankie,” he said.
Someone wolf whistled, and someone else cat-called, and someone yelled, ‘get a room.’
Frank grinned into the kiss and Gerard grinned back.
And they all lived happily ever after.
THE END.
Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three/ Part Four/ Masterpost