(no subject)
It's midday when the doorbell rings, which means someone human has to answer it; though the doorway is (by design) in shadow, diffuse sunlight can still cause vampire skin to smoke, and that has a tendency to be off-putting to potential clients. Andrew's out, and Gunn's asleep, which leaves Jonathan.
He opens the door cautiously. "Can I help you?"
Standing on the doorstep is a skinny young man, prematurely balding, wearing a trenchcoat over a shapeless sweater and jeans. Not so much standing as hunching, actually: his shoulders are slumped, his hands in his coat pockets. Behind his glasses, his eyes go to Jonathan's face and then flick away, looking past him into the entryway; he looks, and sounds, exhausted. "I, I hope so. Um. This is kind of ... okay. Focus. Sorry. Are you him?" He turns his head aside and down, as though to speak to someone standing beside him at about waist height. "Is this him?"
Jonathan blinks. "...Him who?"
"Look, this isn't -- " This is still directed at the invisible companion. "Okay, then, you do the talking." The young man sighs heavily, and looks back at Jonathan, drawing a closed hand out of his pocket. "Sorry about this. My partner needs to talk to you."
He opens his hand palm up at chest height, and a tiny bright-green snake uncurls and raises its head. "Yeah, Danny," it says in a small raspy voice, "it's him."
Jonathan stares. "...didn't think you'd ever show up again," he says, eventually.
The snake sounds very grumpy. "This wasn't exactly my idea. Talk to Them." It jerks its head skyward.
"The Powers sent you to me?" His voice scales up in astonishment. "Why?"
"Why do They ever do anything?" It gives a tiny buzzing sigh with overtones of resignation, the sigh of someone faced with a distasteful job but determined to do it. "Okay. Hold out your hand."
Jonathan eyes him, then decides to go along with it and obeys.
"Now?" says Danny anxiously.
"Yeah, now. No, wait -" The snake raises its head to look right at Jonathan again. "You try to squeeze me and I'll bite you. Fair warning."
Jonathan sighs. "Don't give me reason to, then."
"Okay." The snake hunches its head down and squeezes its eyes shut, as though bracing for something. "Okay, now."
Danny reaches forward and gently tips the snake into Jonathan's palm.
There's just barely time to register the touch of cold scales against his skin before the pain stabs through his head right behind his eyes, ripping him open and letting in -- everything: an avalanche, a tsunami of visual images, faces, motions, too many and too fast to make sense of. As though from very far away, he feels the impact as his shoulder rebounds off the wall, and again as he hits the floor.
It passes as quickly as it came on, both the flurry of images and the blinding pain. Jonathan blinks through a blur, and sees the tiny snake writhing on the threadbare carpet in front of his face as though trying to crawl out of its own skin.
Danny hunkers down and says worriedly "Are you okay?"
Jonathan's voice comes out unsteady, still a little dazed: "Did you know he was going to do that?"
"You dropped him," Danny says accusingly, and reaches past him toward the snake. "Hey. Hey, Gummi, talk to me. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," says the snake, scrubbing the side of its head against the carpet. "And don't call me that."
"He didn't warn me!" Jonathan protests, just as accusingly, still on the floor.
"Sorry, pal," the snake says. "Nobody ever gets a warning for this gig." It shudders all over, then turns to slither up over Danny's fingers and coils down in his palm. "I'm good," it repeats. "Give the chump a hand, huh?"
"Sorry," Danny echoes, and holds out his other hand to help Jonathan up.
Jonathan takes it, still shaky on his feet, and squints at the snake. "...Gummi?"
The snake gives one last shudder and glares up at him. "Do not go there."
"It's just a nickname," Danny mutters, shifting on his feet. "'Cause he ... you know, he looks a little like a --"
"Danny?" says the snake.
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking. And wave goodbye to the new guy."
"Okay," says Danny agreeably. "Are we going?"
"Yeah, we're done here. Be seeing you, pal." Gummi flicks his tail, and Danny lifts his free hand in an awkward wave, and the door closes behind them.
Jonathan blinks again and rubs his eyes, still trying to clear his ... vision, he hears himself think the word. Oh.
Oh, crap.
He opens the door cautiously. "Can I help you?"
Standing on the doorstep is a skinny young man, prematurely balding, wearing a trenchcoat over a shapeless sweater and jeans. Not so much standing as hunching, actually: his shoulders are slumped, his hands in his coat pockets. Behind his glasses, his eyes go to Jonathan's face and then flick away, looking past him into the entryway; he looks, and sounds, exhausted. "I, I hope so. Um. This is kind of ... okay. Focus. Sorry. Are you him?" He turns his head aside and down, as though to speak to someone standing beside him at about waist height. "Is this him?"
Jonathan blinks. "...Him who?"
"Look, this isn't -- " This is still directed at the invisible companion. "Okay, then, you do the talking." The young man sighs heavily, and looks back at Jonathan, drawing a closed hand out of his pocket. "Sorry about this. My partner needs to talk to you."
He opens his hand palm up at chest height, and a tiny bright-green snake uncurls and raises its head. "Yeah, Danny," it says in a small raspy voice, "it's him."
Jonathan stares. "...didn't think you'd ever show up again," he says, eventually.
The snake sounds very grumpy. "This wasn't exactly my idea. Talk to Them." It jerks its head skyward.
"The Powers sent you to me?" His voice scales up in astonishment. "Why?"
"Why do They ever do anything?" It gives a tiny buzzing sigh with overtones of resignation, the sigh of someone faced with a distasteful job but determined to do it. "Okay. Hold out your hand."
Jonathan eyes him, then decides to go along with it and obeys.
"Now?" says Danny anxiously.
"Yeah, now. No, wait -" The snake raises its head to look right at Jonathan again. "You try to squeeze me and I'll bite you. Fair warning."
Jonathan sighs. "Don't give me reason to, then."
"Okay." The snake hunches its head down and squeezes its eyes shut, as though bracing for something. "Okay, now."
Danny reaches forward and gently tips the snake into Jonathan's palm.
There's just barely time to register the touch of cold scales against his skin before the pain stabs through his head right behind his eyes, ripping him open and letting in -- everything: an avalanche, a tsunami of visual images, faces, motions, too many and too fast to make sense of. As though from very far away, he feels the impact as his shoulder rebounds off the wall, and again as he hits the floor.
It passes as quickly as it came on, both the flurry of images and the blinding pain. Jonathan blinks through a blur, and sees the tiny snake writhing on the threadbare carpet in front of his face as though trying to crawl out of its own skin.
Danny hunkers down and says worriedly "Are you okay?"
Jonathan's voice comes out unsteady, still a little dazed: "Did you know he was going to do that?"
"You dropped him," Danny says accusingly, and reaches past him toward the snake. "Hey. Hey, Gummi, talk to me. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," says the snake, scrubbing the side of its head against the carpet. "And don't call me that."
"He didn't warn me!" Jonathan protests, just as accusingly, still on the floor.
"Sorry, pal," the snake says. "Nobody ever gets a warning for this gig." It shudders all over, then turns to slither up over Danny's fingers and coils down in his palm. "I'm good," it repeats. "Give the chump a hand, huh?"
"Sorry," Danny echoes, and holds out his other hand to help Jonathan up.
Jonathan takes it, still shaky on his feet, and squints at the snake. "...Gummi?"
The snake gives one last shudder and glares up at him. "Do not go there."
"It's just a nickname," Danny mutters, shifting on his feet. "'Cause he ... you know, he looks a little like a --"
"Danny?" says the snake.
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking. And wave goodbye to the new guy."
"Okay," says Danny agreeably. "Are we going?"
"Yeah, we're done here. Be seeing you, pal." Gummi flicks his tail, and Danny lifts his free hand in an awkward wave, and the door closes behind them.
Jonathan blinks again and rubs his eyes, still trying to clear his ... vision, he hears himself think the word. Oh.
Oh, crap.