Relapse

"I actually don't know what that means," Lochlann confessed, and then he covered his mouth with one hand, and then he laughed, because of all the things he could confess, this was the least awkward of the night. Her laughter was contagious and he liked her giggle.

"I've heard girls say that, that someone is basic, but I just don't understand the context," he said. "I've been pretending I do everytime someone says it, but honestly, I'm clueless."

As to the horses, Lochlann considered this. He was glad she couldn't see his face because he flushed and grimaced all at once.

"Not all of them like me because of what I am," Lochlann said. "Water horses are similar enough to horses that a water horse could mate with a horse, but it's also more common for water horses to eat horses, too."

Even if Cat normalized it, it was not Lochlann's first nature to include himself in with water horses.

"So some of them are naturally skittish when they realize I'm not... that I'm a predator," he said. "But I guess part of being a horse, or at least something horse like, is that it's easier to communicate with them. They don't really have words, but horses have a language of sorts. Like dogs, I think, or even sheep. It's easier for me to pick up on these things."

He thought of an example.

"Neither of us like loud noises," he said. This time, it was himself, so he the comparison came easier. "Horses like it when you whisper."

He shrugged.

"There's also something with our blood," he said. "I don't know why it works, but if I cut myself and give it to a horse, they like me more. My dad showed me that one."

Lochlann nodded against her shoulder. Her voice sounded like how he felt. He fumbled with his necklace for a while and then dropped his hand.

He could consent to that. If it came down to a choice, he was certain he would make the one that caused the least amount of harm.

"I can do that," he said.

Her confidence reassured him, and so did the unexpected peck on the corner of his lips. he gave her a smile, but he didn't open his eyes or pull his head off her shoulder.

He was terrified, but he could do this.

"We could go horse back riding, or you could show me yoga, but you'll have to explain what being basic means first so I don't do it, too," he said.

Her fingers combed through his hair and Lochlann made an unexpected, small noise in the back of his throat. Horses, incidentally, also liked being touched like that. The last person to have touched him like that had been Addy.

He sat back up, a little embarrassed, and he couldn't quite meet her eyes, which was probably good because they widened and his hand went to the damned necklace again.

After a moment's hesitation, he pulled the thin chain out from beneath his shirt. As far as necklaces went, it was plain and unassuming, with a small piece of glass or crystal or something at the end.

"It keeps me human," he said. He shifted and rubbed his leg again, and then he didn't know what to do, so he tucked his necklace back into his shirt.

"I'm the best in my family at staying human," he said. "My brother can't even go out if it's too misty because he'll turn back. But even I can't hold out for that long if it rains, or if I get wet for too long, and it's...it's really hard if I actually go under the water. I think there's something about it when it gets into my lungs. But this makes it so I don't have a choice."

The problem was that it wasn't fool proof. It could be slipped off. It could be, as Lochlann knew from a long, unfortunate saga, stolen. It could be removed too easily if the pain of staying human became too great. It could even float up over his neck if he dove into the water too quickly.

"It's not like what they have up at juvie," Lochlann said, and he shuddered when he said it. He remembered the feel of the ankle bracelet locking him in his body.

There was something Lochlann didn't tell Cat about the damned amulet. He hadn't even told Guinevere.

Lochlann didn't like to talk about his mom. He was more likely to punch someone in the face than do that, and it was indicated on his transfer records that it had been a relatively common occurrence.

Fae magic was a tricky thing and an amulet like this, something that would keep Lochlann human, had come at a great price.

Lochlann wasn't the one who paid for it.

"It's...I just like to make sure I know where it's at," he said, lamely.

Her explanation filled in some of the gaps in Lochlann's knowledge about what it meant to be basic, and he laughed. he appreciated her compliment on his own appearance and he bumped her knee with his.

"I mean, you're cute in a pony tail, so you're probably equally cute in a messy bun," he told her.

He realized too late that he hadn't elaborated on the horse thing and Lochlann shrugged. "I wouldn't, uh, mate with a horse, for the record. It's weird for me to think about. I'm used to being..this."

He made the hand motion to himself again.

Part of Lochlann's problem was that he never really allowed himself to realize that being a horse and being a person were equally natural parts for himself. He tended to look at himself as a monster instead. It was a lot easier to hate himself than to work on that bit of acceptance.

When she asked if she should whisper, Lochlann's face was hot and he couldn't quite meet her eyes. He rubbed her legs.

"Only if you want to," he told her, and then he gave a shaky laugh and reached for the forgotten coffee to take a sip.

As to whether they should do horseback riding or yoga for their next date, Lochlann considered this.

"We could flip a coin," he grinned. "Or we could do yoga. Especially if it means you get to laugh at me. I like hearing you laugh, so that seems a good trade off."

He didn't miss the motion of her hand but he'd misinterpreted it. He didn't realize she was going to touch it until her hand was back in her lap, and now Lochlann didn't want to take it back out again. It was a little embarrassing.

As to the picture of him as a horse in a shower, he actually laughed.

"That...it happened once," he said. "It was incredibly awkward. I panicked and tried to jump out the window."

Now that he'd said it, Lochlann realized he tried to jump out windows a lot. It never really seemed like that many times until he started to talk about it.

He considered this.

"I can shower with it on, and if it's raining, I can walk to class with just some minor discomfort," he said. And then, because he was confessing, Lochlann laughed. "I hate the rain. Being like, like this, in the rain? It hurts. I get the worst headaches. I get hungry. Noises are too loud. Lights are too bright."

He'd told her he got migraines and now he told her the reason.

She was right, though, even if Lochlann didn't know it: he was anemic.

"But without the necklace it's almost impossible," he said. "I get a little bit of time but not that much. it's like..."

He wasn't used to explaining this, either.

"I'm not like a werewolf," he said. "There's no dramatic transformation. I'm a person or I'm not. It's fast. So the water, it feels like it's washing whatever keeps me like this away."

He wouldn't show her. It was tempting, but Lochlann hated how he looked as a horse. He was tall and black and sleek, like he was made for racing, but when people pictured magical horses they pictured unicorns. Lochlann was most certainly not a unicorn. He was in many ways the opposite.

"I was also...stuck in a tree as a horse once, too," he told her. He made no elaboration because that was embarrassing enough but now, that it was over a year past, he could appreciate the humor in it.

"Oh," Lochlann said. He considered this. He forgot, after spending so much time there, that people weren't as familiar with the nightmare place as he was. "They have these ankle things that keep you human and negate all of your magic. A lot of the people who go there have trouble controlling their powers, and they don't want patients going after the staff, I guess. Some of the patients could get violent."

Lochlann most definitely would have been one of those patients.

"I wasn't really conscious when they put it on, so I'm not sure how they did, or how they got it off when I was released," Lochlann confessed. 'But they're fucking impossible to get off on your own. I tried everything I could get my hands on. I mean, relatively speaking, since it's not like they were giving me sharp instruments and plastic knives can only do so much."

He considered the rest of his attempts. He hadn't gone quite as far as gnawing off his own leg, but he had tried using blood to slide it off, but it had been form-fitting. The thought made him blanch again.

"The hospital doesn't really use them," he said. "They have equipment for other species, but I think it's definitely easier if someone is in human-shape. They have to have something, though."

Lochlann looked surprise now that he'd thought about it. He'd been stuck in a human shape the entire time he'd been there, everytime he'd been there. He fumbled with his necklace. Talking about hospitals and juvie was making him sweat.

"You'll probably never end up there," he gave her a grin. "Unless you use your gymnastic fighting skills and try to take over the academy or something like that. If you do, I promise I'll come break you out."

Lochlann tilted his head curiously to the side and wondered about her messiness. After a moment, his eyes lit up.

"I imagine that you just roll out of bed and sort of punch the sun," he said. "You probably look flawless when you wake up, even if your hair is all skewed and messy. So you're probably right. You couldn't do a messy bun because it would just turn into a bun."

To the horse issue, and since he'd touched on it earlier, Lochlann laughed. "I can assure you that I do not have any babies out there, horse or otherwise. it's actually pretty hard for me to have that happen."

When she told him she'd whisper to him, Lochlann had to drop his eyes from her face, because he wasn't sure was appearing on his face. He was usually good at keeping his expressions under control. He was used to it. But that all changed around Cat.

Lochlann didn't deny it.

"Yes," he said. She made him nervous. "This is uncharted territory for me. I've met you twice now and told you more about me in these two times than I have with people I've known for two years."


Lochlann nodded. Yoga was a plan then. Riding in the spring was a plan, too. It'd be easier to avoid the temptation to say they had to stop and warm up somewhere, too. That seemed safe.

"Tell me when and where, and I'll be there," he said. "With two pumpkin spice lates."

He liked that she covered her mouth with her hand, but he liked it more when she laughed without hiding it.

He responded to the easier parts, the parts with the most laughter, first. Lochlann liked sharing a smile with her.

"It was pretty terrible," he agreed. "Sometimes I can't get it out of my head. But luckily all my flats have been showers-only. I wasn't even allowed to rent somewhere with a bathtub at first. And now I'm glad I haven't."

As for the tree Lochlann laughed even harder. he was picturing it.

"I was human when I started, but I got up to a point where I started to slip and panicked. I think, maybe, I thought it's be easier to jump if I was a horse, or maybe I just panicked, but i got stuck with the branches all under my legs and I finally got down when the branches broke and... I panicked again. It was a mess."

As to why he endured the discomfort, Lochlann considered this. Her hand was cold and he gave it a squeeze. He was almost always warm.

"Because I don't get to stay here," he said. "I have to go back to the states, and when I go back it's not an option. Can't have murder horses out in the woods. It's too dangerous, there's too much chance someone will see me."

It had never, ever been an option.

"It's not nice," he said. "I can pass as a regular horse, but the details are all messed up."

Her eyes were on his and he had a hard time meeting them because Lochlann was terribly, horribly ashamed of what he looked like as a horse. He was beautiful in a sleek, dangerous kind of way, and he knew when his parents were younger, their horse forms were so well desired that they sometimes didn't even have to change into a human to lure someone out to a lake or river bed.

But Lochlann was born in a different time and he wanted so badly to believe that this was his only shape.

He considered this, and then he shrugged, and laughed, because he knew what the answer was coming.

"I don't know," he said. "I'm probably..I mean, I would be called a cabyll-ushtey or an each-uisige."

He still wasn't lumping himself in with the water horses.

"I guess it's like with dogs, they're all basically the same, but there are hunting dogs and herding dogs. But a herding dog doesn't know he's different from a hunting dog. He just knows he's a dog."

Lochlann was so painfully used to pretending to be human that he didn't even know half of what he could do. There were stories were some water horses could curse, others could open doors to fairy land, and some had more magic. He pushed all those parts away. He had no idea what he was.

"My mom was Welsh, I think," Lochlann said. She'd taught him Welsh as his first language, but Lochlann realized now that he didn't know where his parents were born. She might have been a Ceffyl Dwr.

What Lochlann realized too late was that, if she'd done her research, she'd know immediately that the two possibilities he'd picked had the most tales of man-eating.

He stuck his hands into his pockets and now Lochlann finally did pull out a cigarette. He didn't light it, but he chewed on the end in his mouth.

"Juvie was pretty terrible," he agreed. "The worst part is that everyone who works there is actually really nice. I guess they've seen it all. And I think they want to help. But that doesn't make it better."

Her thumb on his hand stopped him from shivering and kept him anchored to the present. He considered this.

"It's okay," he said. "I think that this is probably good, being uncomfortable, because it stops me from the temptation of not telling you something important. I can't tell you everything because I don't know everything, but I can try to fill you in on what I know. it's just that it's, well, it's very different."

he laughed and couldn't tell if a pike jump karate chop was a real thing. He was certain it would probably hurt, though.

"It does feel weird to be telling you all my deepest secrets and to still have you want to spend time with me," Lochlann said. "It also makes me feel like I'm not asking you enough questions."

He realized he'd never actually answered her question and Lochlann shook his head.

"I'm not uncomfortable now," he told her, but the words stuck in his throat because they tasted a little bit like a lie.

If Lochlann really admitted it, really truly thought about it, he hated pretending to be human. He hated being a monster. He hated feeling like he needed sex, like he needed to eat someone, and he hated that he felt miserable without people, that he couldn't be alone completely. He hated feeling that he hated.

That route was exhausting and Lochlann didn't let himself stumble on it.

Life was a lot like the pain in his leg. It was dull and it ached but most days he didn't even notice it. He almost never limped anymore.

He said, "Tell me about your favorite book."

Lochlann realized he was glad about a lot of things.

He was glad they got to skip the question about home. Thinking about it exhausted him. Thinking about all of this exhausted him, but home meant getting dangerously close to talking about his mom, and Lochlann didn't want to even come close to crossing that bridge.

He was glad he was going to see her again in two weeks.

It'd been a while since he looked forward to anything, but Lochlann was looking forward to this.

He was also glad she understood what he meant about the water horses. He nodded. She made it sound neat and tidy that way. He admired her for that. He was going to add succinct to the list of words he associated with her.

She wrinkled her nose and Lochlann resisted the urge to want to kiss it by chewing on the end of the cigarette a little bit harder.

The question associated with that nose wrinkle caught him off guard. He took a deep breath, but it wasn't out of fear or apprehension this time. His breathing was level and even.

He laughed and said, "You have not been in the right lakes then. Or you haven't dug your toes into the bottom of that gunky mud really deep."

Then, he realized how his comment sounded since it was coming from him, and frowned. He shook his head.

He'd killed more people in lakes than any other body of water. He'd killed at least two people on this island in the lake by the school.

"I guess I like them all, which isn't really a good answer, but they're all kind of different," Lochlann said. "It's like listening to different music, they each have different styles with them."

He didn't like that metaphor. He was not as good at this as she was.

He tried to think of a story that didn't end up with someone dying in it.

It was a lot harder than he anticipated. He couldn't tell her that he liked rivers because they were easier to move in and that, when he was younger, he was exceptionally good at convincing people to drive their cars off bridges. If the saying you are what you eat is true, Lochlann's penchant for eating drunk, suicidal folk had clearly rubbed off.

The ocean he liked for other reasons. it was big and easy to get lost. He'd spent over a year in it with his family when they traveled to America. That had been nice, in it's own way. But his last few experiences with the ocean hadn't been that great. The very things that made the ocean desirable also made them a mess.

He'd lived in the lake here for a while, after Dani died, when he wanted to go somewhere Guinevere couldn't reach him. He'd been ready to die there.

"I think the lake is my favorite," he finally said. "The fact that it's so dark and so murky, and so deep, that's what makes me like it. It makes me feel safe. It's peaceful, too, and the currents are less intense. The chances of falling asleep and then waking up miles away are less."

He snorted at that.

"But they can get scary when the winters are long, and the ice starts to get thick, it can become a little bit confining, but the water is much warmer in them, usually," he said.

These were definitely things he had never, ever told another person. They were not things he had ever thought about, or even dreamed about, telling another person.

"The ocean has more beautiful animals, though," he said, then he grimaced. "Not all of them taste great."


He liked the way she looked bundled up in his jacket. He realized that the cold felt good. he was tired, exhausted really, but he knew he wasn't going to sleep tonight and the cold made him feel alert.

"I do," Lochlann said.

He used to run a consistent low-grade fever from the abuse he put his body through. He was always hot. He'd been better now since he'd been clean, but old habits died hard, and Lochlann found something about a cold breeze refreshing.

He had not seen a lot of disney movies, but her excitement about them made Lochlann realize this was something he would need to remedy. He got up with her on the roof and he was going to grab their trash when she beat him to it. Lochlann stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants, still chewing on the end of his cigarette.

"Tell me which ones to watch then," he said.

He was surprised by her answer to the question, too. It was well thought out, which surprised him, but by now he should have learned that Cat didn't do anything half-assed.

Would he call it a happy ending?

That might mean that Lochlann had a happy ending now. He was probably supposed to be dead. The fact that he wasn't was probably an accident. That was a good accident, though, wasn't it? So shouldn't that be happy?

He could answer the question with a yes, though, because Lochlann could agree that her life would indeed have a happy ending.

"I think so," he said.

he offered her his hand to walk her home.