Sui Generis – 5

 

Four hours later, when they were back at the house, Brand went upstairs to change clothes. He came back down dressed in a pair of old jeans and a black tank with a well-worn blue work shirt over it, his old backpack slung over his shoulder. He was surprised when, five minutes later, Mag joined him, dressed in comparable clothes, although he was wearing a T-shirt rather than a tank.

"You're not coming with me," Brand stated firmly.

"Then I'll just follow you," Mag retorted. "Now that you know where he is, more or less, having me along might give you an edge if you find him."

"You have no idea what you'd be going up against."

"Not because I haven't asked," Mag pointed out caustically. "All you've said—and it wasn't much—was that he grabs guys like us—well, like we used to be—off the street and puts them to work as part of his stable of whores."

Brand nodded. "That pretty much covers it," he agreed, adjusting his backpack so he didn't have to look at Mag. "If he got his hands on you, I don't think you'd survive."

"You did."

"I'm… stronger than you."

Mag stepped in front of him, looking up at him. "When are you going to tell me what really happened?"

"Never," Brand spat out angrily. "So drop it. I got out and that's all that matters."

"That's up for debate."

"That I managed to escape?" Brand asked, a tiny smile playing over his lips.

"No. Escaping was good, but he destroyed something in you before you did, Brand. He turned you into someone I wasn't sure I wanted to be around the first time I saw you after you came back. You're hard now and… and dangerous."

"Only when it comes to him," Brand protested.

Mag shook his head. "No. With everyone. Think about it. How many of the people you used to be friends with are still your friends? I'd be willing to bet I'm the only one. You pushed the rest away and you tried with me, but I wasn't about to let it happen."

Brand chuckled softly. "Given that we're sharing this house, and made a pact about school, I'd say that's true."

"It wouldn't be, if I'd listened to you."

"Why did you?" Brand cocked his head in question.

"Because we were friends—before—and I thought… no, I knew you needed someone to help you stay focused on what's really important, above and beyond stopping Fedor." 

"So you decided to take on that role, and have for the last two months. Although why…?" He shook his head in bewilderment.

"Because I care," Mag replied softly. "Even though I barely know who you are anymore, I still care." He moved away, eyeing his friend. "I spent half a year wondering if I'd ever see you again. Got off the streets, worked two jobs to save enough money to be able to rent this place—as ratty as it is—so you'd have somewhere to come home to if you… Well, you know." 

"You still are working one of them," Brand pointed out. He sighed then. "You're better than me. I should find a job to help out."

"You will, once you get over this obsession with finding Fedor." Mag held up one hand. "Before you get mad, I understand why but still it is an obsession. So, back to what started this whole conversation, I am coming with you tonight. Tomorrow is Saturday; I don't have to work."

Brand scrubbed one hand over his face. "All right," he said with a small smile. "If you insist."

"I do."