How long is long? That depends how long it takes

Lochlann blinked awake. His head was throbbing and his mouth felt dry. He was lying in a bed in a place that smelled like antiseptic and lemons so, Lochlann knew, he was either in the middle of a terrible nightmare or probably in the hospital.

His eyesight was blurry but came back eventually, and Lochlann realized he wasn't in the hospital. It was the infirmary, which wasn't great, but it was better than the hospital. He was not handcuffed to the bed this time and there were no gross needles, so he slid out of bed and almost collapsed onto the floor. Damn, he was still woozy.

"You're not going anywhere," one of the people in the white lab coats said. "You took a pretty good fall. We've asked for a volunteer to come walk you back home."

Lochlann felt defeated by this knowledge and sat back down on the bed. He thought about bolting, but wasn't sure how far he'd make it. Who the hell would volunteer to walk a stranger back home?

Lochlann’s eyes narrowed when a young man entered the room.

It wasn’t anything intentional; Lochlann barely realized he did it. That being said, his dark brows furrowed, his lips tightened into a thin line, and his body posture went rigid. Lochlann looked like an animal ready to bolt.

That didn’t stop him from taking the other boy’s hand when it was offered and responding with a surprisingly firm grip. Lochlann was raised in the states before he came to the island and this had been instilled into him by his father as a way to look human.

“Yeah, thanks,” Lochlann said.

It was a good thing the other boy coughed, because Lochlann was feeling the awkwardness a lot. He picked himself up from the bed slowly and felt the shifting in his head that always made him think of having water in his ears. He didn’t move, giving himself a moment to get steady.

“Are you familiar with the pier at all?” Lochlann asked the other man. After a moment, he frowned, and said, “Oh. I’m Lochlann by the way. Sorry you got roped into this.”

Cedric.

Lochlann had just mentally filed the name when his brain immediately added DANGER DANGER DANGER after it.

That comment was too intentional. Lochlann stood frozen to the spot. His eyes darted to the window--but there wasn't any, they knew better than to keep him in a room with a window--then back to the door, but Cedric was in his direct path, and Lochlann wasn't sure if he was steady enough to make it the full way.

He swallowed.

He said, his voice grim, "Then let's hope nothing happens that leads to any unfortunate accidents."

Lochlann was paranoid now. Did the staff tell Cedric what he was? Did the other boy figure it out? Was he just being paranoid? Lochlann's fingers itched for his flask, but found the packet of cigarettes in his pocket. He gripped them tightly.

"Lead the way then," he said, desperate to get outside now for a smoke. He asked, "So why are you here?"

He meant in the infirmary but the question was broad enough to be interpreted in any number of ways; escorting me, the island, this planet.

Lochlann's face remained impassive while the other boy showed him the iron burn.

Internally, Lochlann flinched. He knew how bad that hurt.

He was tempted to offer some kind of support. You know, they could switch to glass door handles if you put in a maintenance request with most buildings here, he thought about saying.

He did not because Cedric used the words trot and for show which just increased Lochlann's paranoia...and his irritation. He debated about not answering the question at all, but Lochlann was the one who asked first, and whether it was the manners from his parents or some compulsion of fae manners in his heritage, Lochlann felt as though he had no choice but to respond.

"No," Lochlann said.

He tested that answer but it wasn't really sufficient either. He stuck his hands in his pockets again. He flipped the pack of cigarettes over.

"I passed out in class I guess," Lochlann said. He didn't really remember passing out, but then again, he didn't really remember going to class, either. He pressed his fingers to the back of his head which was healed--the perks of being in a magical school--but still felt a little sore.

"I think the staff here assume that if I fall on the way home, I'll get sent back to them someway or another, and neither the staff nor I want that," Lochlann said. He pulled his hands out of his pocket and crossed them, then uncrossed them again.

He ground his teeth.

He wanted to ask the other boy how he knew what he was. Was Cedric fae, too, as Lochlann was starting to suspect. Iron allergies were common to the fae, but they didn't have to be. Some demons couldn't stand iron, and Lochlann had a vague recollection that there might be a certain species of fearsome critters from the states that were bad with it, too, but he hadn't met many fearsome critters here.

So he asked, instead, "Where do you live?"

Lochlann's face went through a carcrash of emotions before it gave up and went blank.

Despite it being a magical school, Lochlann was still very much in practice at pretending to be human. With the exception of the staff and students like Cedric who could recognize what he was, most of the school's population assumed Lochlann was just a gifted human.

Despite it being a magical school, Lochlann had never taken any classes on managing his powers. He had a hard time even considering himself fae.

It was why, at first, the only thing Lochlann could manage to say was, "Yeah. That's the pier."

Then, his words came tumbling out, "You live in a dollhouse? Doesn't that make you feel insane though? like how do you even have things that work inside a house so small?"