The blistering heat of the day before has settled into a slight chill, December now grateful for the cover of his Haven sweatshirt wrapped tightly around him. The group had left the care of Marigold's cottage in the early morning, the sun still in hiding as they began their trek across the meadow. He has no idea of the weather nor season, the only indication that it may be summer hidden in the chirps of cicadas heard from the night before. December's never heard the sound for himself until now, the thick walls of Haven blocking out any reminders of the outside world.

As Wren and Ryder take the lead December hangs back, his body lingering next to a silent Abrahm as they slack behind the two other boys.

December's eyes fall onto Wren's back, the small pit in his stomach beginning to turn at the sight of him. Wren seems so normal, human almost as he walks next to Ryder, their strides in sync as their fingers play at the idea of intertwining. Wren's head falls onto Ryder's shoulder before his gaze turns December's way, plum eyes wary of his attention as he slides away from Ryder, arms crossing against himself in defense.

How can I sentence him to death? A man more human than myself. The love of my cousin's life, a man that I have confided in at my darkest hours?

You already have once...

The thought gnaws away at December, nearly burning him alive as he scratches away the sensation, red welps dragging along behind his nails etched deep into his flesh.

"You okay there?" Abrahm's hand falls onto December's shoulder, a smirk carving into his lips though his eyes are saturated with worry.

"We're just going to kill Wren?" December whispers, lips nearly trembling with the accusation.

Abrahm's hand slides off December's shoulder, his tongue drawing behind his teeth as he bites back his first thoughts. "That sounded like you're second guessing the plan." His words are slow and deliberate, a warning hidden deep within each one as a thick brow cocks in confusion. "Don't tell me he has you under his spell too. He's not even that attractive." He adds on as an afterthought, gaze shifting to Wren with disgust.

"I'm not second guessing anything. Just," A heavy sigh escapes December's tight pressed lips, shoulders deflating from the top of his neck as he does so. "Do you even have a plan? Or are you just going to ambush him and throw him in a closet?"

Just the thought has Abrahm chuckling, the smirk returning to his lips as he scans the small meadow, cautious of Wren's eyes as he points a finger towards his back.

"Tell me what you see."

December's eyes fall to the boys in front of them, Ryder walking with his head outstretched towards the sky marveling in the swirls of blue and white that tower above. There's nothing out of the ordinary about the action, Ryder's eyes soon falling towards the floor of the meadow, dark eyes scanning each flower that passes by in awe. Wren shoves his hand into his pockets beside him, his shoulders scrunched to the top of his neck before slowly releasing, a small hand greeting the nape of his neck and massaging the muscle.

December's gaze falls back to Abrahm, confusion clearly written on his features as Abrahm responds with a disappointed sigh.

"Do you even remember half the shit we pumped into him?"

Briefly, his mind attempts to scan over the past three months. Yet, between the blockers and horde of experimental drugs they pumped into his veins, it's difficult to name a medication without consulting his charts.

"No? What's your point?" December scoffs, a mix of irritated boredom and sickening anticipation brewing within him.

Abrahm smiles as he reads the surgeon's expression. "Last night I heard him tell Ryder he hasn't been able to sleep since he was freed. And now," he adds on, the excitement rising in his voice as he points his finger at Wren. "He's been rubbing at his neck all day."

"The point, Abrahm."

"The point is that he's going through withdrawals, December. Whatever we put in him it got him addicted. All we have to do is wait until he's in so much pain he's begging us for his next hit-"

"Then we can get him to tell us anything." December finishes his sentence for him, watching as Abrahm's eyes glow with a nauseating excitement.

As Abrahm turns away December's own nausea rises to the surface, the sensation that now permanently resides within the pit of his stomach beginning to come alive.

We got him addicted.

As much as he wishes to fight it his mind overpowers him, forcing him to relive the memory of being trapped underneath Wren's bed, watching in fascination as the drugs nearly consumed him. The pain that they caused him as he scraped at his skin, body drenched in sweat as it burdened through the agony.

To be addicted to such a source of pain... December can't finish the thought, his eyes blinking away the remnants of a mnemonic too painful to bear.

Before he can begin to speak, the two boys ahead of him come to a pause, heads cast towards the sky as a gleam of light makes itself known in the distance. As the group approaches the source of light becomes apparent, the fae breaking into as much of a sprint as its small body can handle. Ryder follows close after, body breaking into a sprint towards the castle in the distance.

December glances around as they approach the looming shadow of the building. His hands dig within his pockets, fingertips brushing against smooth glass as he fumbles with the item. Abraham cocks a brow, a visage of curiosity sweeping over his features before he glances down, eyeing December's pocketed hand with a smile.

"You know," he whispers, head downcast so only December can hear. His mess of curls disguises their faces though it isn't needed, Ryder and Wren far off at the castle's entry by now. "I was starting to get worried you'd lost them."

Brown meets blue as they lock gazes, something dark hidden behind already deep eyes. A spark of electricity seemingly flows from one iris to the next as Abrahm's lip curls into a snarling smirk.

"The blockers?" December quizzes, fingers wrapping around the glass vial still cool to the touch. "I wouldn't forget them for the world." He swallows dryly before pocketing the small vial, the glass clinking against the remainder of the blockers he had managed to scavenge from the wreckage of the fire.

The plan had been to drug the creature, to finish what they had started, what Haven started. Yet here they are, cast beneath the shadow of some cobblestone castle in some foreign dimension at the mercy of some -

"Nėüt!"

The voice breaks his thoughts, the sound an unrecognizable one as it nears the small group. The foreign phrase grows louder as it falls nearer until a thin man is in sight.

He's tall, almost too tall December notes as he tilts his head upward to get a look at the man. He seems stressed, as if a lifetime's worth of work and worry has fallen on his bony shoulders. Deep lines trace his features, pulling at the corners of his eyes and falling against his tight lipped smile. The man's voice speaks of emotions his face keeps hidden well, the foreign phrase repeated once more before his svelte body tips at the waist, the slightest of smiles desperately tugging at his mouth.

"Nėüt, little king." The man beams softly at the creature while his deep set eyes analyze the group, face scrunching as a bony finger gingerly plucks at their torn and singed Haven attire.

Without another word he motions his hand for the boys to follow, one hand still beckoning as the other pushes against two large wooden doors. A slight creak emits before another world is revealed, the man still beckoning as he enters the grand hall of the castle.

The world has stilled, just the sound of December's own heartbeat echoing throughout the room, blood rushing to his cheeks and his body warming though he doesn't understand why. There's just a stunned silence that washes over his being as he stands frozen within the entry of the grand room.

It's like the day that Jenn unlocked the outdoors. The rush of scents, of textures, the way the earth smelled of what could only be rain and the overwhelming sensation that there is something out there that is more than him, something out there that is greater than all of them. It was the feeling that overcame him, that rushed down his spine and paralyzed every cell within his being as he witnessed the daunting nature of the woods from afar. Witnessed this towering, watchful, beast that slept in the distance so far yet so threateningly close to their haven.

It's the same sensation that paralyzes him now as bodies rush by, silver platters in their hands as they duck and weave between one another, colorful skirts grazing the white and grey marble of the floor. Head downcast he watches as his reflection glimmers in the flooring, an arm stretching out instinctively to pull at his tattered Haven sweatshirt now so out of place in this colorful world of otherlings.

There's more than fae here, people who look human passing by in a blur. A sweet fragrance follows behind each body though it changes with each person who passes. Their bodies disappear behind the quartz and crystal columns that hold up the room, bringing the eye to an oversized, extravagant chandelier in the center of the domed ceiling.

Everything is bright, everything glistens and breathes this thing that takes the breath away. The air even smells different, a mix of the sweet fragranced people and something deeply of the Earth, sweet mud and the berries of the forest.

A white-blonde body finds its way next to him, it's presence still so small, a timidness making itself known as it stares at its own reflection, plum eyes watching the silhouette silently beside it.

Still staring at the reflection beside it the fae abruptly moves forward, following the tall man into the depths of the crystal castle.

As December's left in the wake of the bustling castle a small voice enters his mind, familiar yet so out of place, soothing and eerie as it whispers against his mind one small phrase:

"Nėüt: Welcome home."