The Universe's Mixer

Since the meeting with the other Evey and his talk with Peter after, Aidan had been unable to face his own Evey, despite how much he wanted to see her. He felt that if he looked in those bright eyes, all he would see was the pain reflected from the other. He worried that by touching the soft, healthy skin of one, he would know the rough sun-beaten skin of her opposite.

For days he couldn't even bring himself to leave his apartment. He had ignored his phone, he had not answered his door. Silently, he had sat watching the sun rise and fall, unmoving from his place on the plush leather couch the City had provided him. Thinking on the sorrow he had seen, the broken shell that Evey had become.

Peter had said that he would keep an eye on the other, give reports on her well being. But Aidan knew exactly what he would find, nothing. If she had been surviving before, he had taken away the last bit of her will through his ignorant and careless actions. By appearing before her in the way that he had, proclaiming his love for her, kissing her, he had sapped from her the last shred of humanness. She had seen that he loved not her, but the other. The one that had not lived on an island of dinosaurs. The one that had not lost him and lived without him for years. She had seen that, and she had been broken where before there had only been a crack.

When Aidan did finally leave the apartment, he had gone to the hospital and begun to drink. He hadn't even waited to leave the storage room before ripping open the first bag. There were three in the trash before he had finished gathering others into a backpack.

It took lots more blood to get drunk when it was bagged than if he just drank from a person. His backpack was full, and as soon as Aidan was out the door, he pulled out another, walking the streets and devouring, dropping the empties into streetside bins as he went. He was past caring if he got caught, but somehow he knew that he wouldn't be. This wasn't the dying world where blood was scarce. Nobody cared about what was in trash cans here, nobody was digging through them seeking out scraps of food or clothing or anything that could help them in their lives. Nobody would see the shriveled, empty plastic bags that had been punctured.

He knew the danger of what he was doing, he knew the risks to the people around him. He was aware that once he was in the state he was setting out to achieve, he was likely going to kill somebody. But he also didn't care. He needed to escape. He needed to be away from thoughts and feelings.

Half the backpack was empty now and he was unsure of where to go when Bishop appeared walking beside him.

"This is a strange way to reenter the world of being a real vampire, Aidan." The hallucination said to him. "But I'm not going to argue. I'm just glad you're headed down the right path again. You know this is going to lead to live blood, and you're doing it anyway."

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" Aidan spoke to the nothing that was beside him.

"Oh come on. You aren't that stupid. You knew that if you did this, I would be here." Bishop clapped Aidan on the back. "So what's our next step?"

"I don't know. This is as far as I got in my plan."

"Well, okay. We'll wander around until the blood you've got in your cute little knapsack is gone, and we'll figure it out from there."

"Can you just be quiet until then?"

"Sure. You've got it. Not another word from me until that last drop is drunk." The hallucination shrugged. "But I'm not leaving, either."

"Fine." Aidan's brows knit together angrily, and he pulled another blood bag from the large pocket on the backpack. Would his wife appear to him this time? His son? Or was Bishop the only hellish memory he was going to burden himself with?

He had a kitten in his hands and the knowledge of the Other Eric in his mind. He stood at the door to the home he shared with his mate, uncertain about everything. Macklyn wasn't used to being uncertain and he didn't like the feeling of it.

The fairy took a deep breath and opened the door. "Eric?"

Their house was still not all the way decorated, but he'd brought in some things over time. The abandoned recliner had been repaired and reupholstered to fit more into their lives. He'd chosen an elegant print for it, though he'd been highly tempted to find the most garish seventies monstrosity he could find, just for the amusement. It was the realization that he would also have to look at it every day that stopped him.

"Eric?" He called, the kitten held behind his back. He knew that his mate would likely smell or sense the animal before he saw it, but it was still... well, it was supposed to be a surprise.

Potentially not a good one.

Maybe Selina was right, maybe he should have asked first. But it was too late now. He was in the house with it.

Outside he heard Bran yelling at something, probably one of the squirrels. It made Macklyn smile.