How to Train Your Channeler

[Oriena]

Honestly, she would have preferred it had he just run. She could certainly do without all the fucking yelling at her. Sasha’s voice was hoarse; he sounded like a wounded animal – pathetic and confused – and had she thought he’d actually stick up for himself she’d have struck a match against the anger he must be feeling somewhere inside, just for the catharsis. Ori could take the punishment. But even if he labelled her the villain of the piece, it wasn’t like he was going to actually do anything about it. It all felt like a waste of breath.

There were a thousand things she could have said to explain. That Nox had warned her he was in trouble and she didn’t have to come and save his ass. That she did what made sense in the moment to get that thing out of his head, and it had come with a price. She didn’t even know what exactly he was asking her. Why what? But it sounded like an accusation, and she didn’t like that.

She shifted languidly to her feet. Raked a hand through her hair, and adjusted to the new lightness inside. Sasha had crushed himself back up against the wall, and she thought about leaving him there. Fear was only ever useful to her when it leveraged retaliation. The kind that made someone break and cower just reminded her of every bully she’d ever cut down in her youth, and she hated it enough that the kindest thing she could do was leave. Comfort wasn’t something anyone ever sought from Ori.

Still, she crouched in front of him.

“Why what?” she snapped.

[Sasha]

Sasha blinked back at Oriena. He knew he had a reason for asking her but her question in return only gave a blank stare. Why what? "Why me?" Sasha's head collasped to his knees. Oriena was not a soft woman, she wasn't even warm and caring or anything of that nature but she'd never been mean. He wouldn't cry in front of her. He wouldn't whine or fall apart. He just sat there head hung over his knees, his arms wrapped around them and hugged himself. It was colder now. The fire of anger burned away. He could start a fire if he had his shard. Stay warm. He didn't have it and he was never going back to get it. He didn't want anywhere near her.

His voice still a whisper and muffled by the fetal position he held. Sasha said it again "Thank you. It was a living hell." He still didn't understand the monsters that had been there, that were there because of Oriena. He wanted to be angry, but he didn't understand it was all so very confusing.

Sasha took a deep breath and lifted his head and stood up, tears filled his eyes but they didn't fall. He wouldn't cry in front of her -- or anyone. "I'm cold. I'm going home." Not that he had a real home, but the church would be warm and there would be fire to satiate his hunger. The anger he could feed what little he had left into him into the fires there.

[Oriena]

She just watched him, silently. Life crushed Sasha, and he let it, but she had no interest in making him any smaller than he already made himself. There was no answer to his question anyway. Life was cruel. It made a survivor of Oriena in the same way it made a victim of Sasha. Because it could.

He completely folded in on himself. It stirred no pity inside her, but she didn’t look away either. Her brows were lightly drawn – whatever thoughts might be passing behind her eyes anyone’s guess. Ori didn’t respond to his thanks any more than she did to his visible distress. She just watched him with an expression of displeasure, or maybe frustration.

When he stood, she did too. Not in a predatory way, just to let him go. Only her arm moved without any conscious thought as he shifted to do just that, palm on his chest to block an easy exit. There wasn’t any force behind it; it wasn’t a move to spark confrontation, just a gesture to make him pause. Her eyes were still heated with their usual challenge despite the wretchedness of his gaze, but it wasn’t the kind which would push to breaking.

“I’ve felt one of them feed. I know how shitty it is,” she said. “But it’s what they wanted in exchange for their aid.” She glanced at the device where it lay, motionless now, but only for a moment. It wasn’t an apology. It was barely an explanation. Neither were owed, and it wasn’t why she chose to speak –  she’d already discarded his gratitude, and she wasn’t after vindication. If he pressed he might get more, but people rarely dared – they just accepted what Ori gave and scuttled out of her way. She would let him go if he shoved passed. Probably. She’d tolerate being hated. She’d tolerate being feared. But she’d decided she didn’t go to all this trouble just to let him flee straight back into the shadows.

“Open your hands.” It was still a command more than a request, but a more merciful one; there was no impetus behind it this time, just an expectation.

[Sasha]

Sasha looked down at her hand on his chest before pausing to meet her gaze. She was scarey even on the best of days but he wasn't sure what she meant. He got that it was payment, but what had they done to free him? He didn't ask. He didn't care as he glared at the fallen twitching object. He wondered if it was alive in some way.

He didn't know why she was here? Things were becoming more clear as the fear and pain passed. He didn't peg Oriena as a bleeding heart. Why was she here, another question he'd never get an answer to because he didn't ask.

Her words were sharp as always and Sasha obeyed. Opening his hands in front of him wand watching her carefully. What if she put a scorpion in his hands? or something worse? He was sure there was a bit of fear in his eyes. Sasha would trust her a little longer -- though he might live to regret it.

[Oriena]

His eyes were full of mistrust and unshed tears. Ori half rolled her own in the darkness. Fortunately for him her good mood bred a little patience. “I promise I’ll only bite if you ask nicely,” she said with a smirk. He was looking at her like he expected her to grow fangs, clearly ignorant of the point she was making because he didn’t even glance down at his palms. The control amused her for half a moment – the way he obeyed without knowing what she intended, even when it made him afraid. It wasn’t trust though, or curiosity, or recklessness – or anything half so pleasant: it was just a man used to being the one held over the barrel. To a world that shafted him so hard and so often he just accepted it. And that bristled her. Dug at something buried deep inside which she didn’t turn to face let alone examine.

Her expression didn’t soften. Her ferocity made no room for the edge of his fear, nor sought to reassure his trust. Yet her touch was surprisingly gentle when her fingers moved to trace the delicate flesh inside his wrists, watching his expression while she did it – just to see his reaction, and maybe to toy with it. But it was only a gesture to cup behind his hands, hold them up so he could see they were empty.

“You don’t have that jagged little piece of shit you were clutching like a lifeline, before,” she said. Her tone was a little scathing that she’d had to point it out to him. “Yet you channeled anyway. Because you don’t need it.” She paused for half a beat, but didn’t intend to give him the chance to shy back. “So if you’re cold, do something about it.”

[Sasha]

Sasha looked down at his hands. He had used the power inside. He'd done so without the shard. But he didn't actually know how he did it. He remembered words the man who Oriena had sent him to had said. It's always there just out of sight and he did see it. He just had to grab it.

Fear lanced through his body one more time. What if it didn't work? What if she was wrong.

He looked up into Oriena's eyes and searched for that place in his mind where the power wrestled with his own existence. Do not surrender. Control it! Sasha reached into the light and grabbed the bull by the horns and the world became much darker and grim than he'd ever imagine. The underground was an aweful place. Sounds of dripping water he picked up, the scent of blood and death lingered on the walls. His own not too far away.

He wasn't sure how to do what she asked, how to become warm. But he felt the fire in the patterns around him and he drew up on that power and wove a ball of fire. It floated just above his hands and he smiled widely. It was much warmer but yet it didn't burn his skin. He wondered how that was

Sasha knew that Oriena wouldn't appreciate the gesture but he leaned in and kissed her quickly before she bit him or something. "I did it. Thank you." This time he sounded better, though his voice was distant from holding the power still. It was a rush, the feeling of freedom. He wondered what he could do with it.

[Oriena]

Her eyes flashed, but it served as barely any warning before she pushed him back into the wall. Power rippled around her, enough to part the fireball balanced above his hands without dousing it or setting herself aflame. Her kiss was hungry, a predator’s reaction to a liberty he never should have taken if he didn’t expect to play with the fire of her. Ori didn’t even try to predict herself sometimes, but when she wanted she took. And right then she wanted. The sex hadn’t even been that good before; just another reckless escape in a recent litany meant to quash her demons. It was something else about Sasha which continued to hook under her skin. No one else would have risked her unpredictable boundaries for so meagre and gentle a prize as the brief touch of his lips against hers. Sasha just acted and retreated: unassuming, honest, infuriating. It wasn’t to a purpose, but it fucking made her burn inside all the same.

“You irritate me.” She growled it low, like an insult. But with the tease of her teeth and heat of her breath against his it didn't exactly sound like a regret. It sounded like a promise to ruin him. Right then his jacket was the only further thing she took, though – stripped right from his shoulders, first with a teasing lover’s insistence and her mouth still on his, but then with something which flared mischievous under her lashes as she retreated.

She threw it over the device. Because like fuck was she touching that thing with bare flesh – and like fuck was she leaving it here for the snake to retrace her steps and reclaim, either. Once bundled she tucked it under arm with little care of consequence. But then, it wasn’t her skull it had been embedded in.

Ori squeezed her hand into a pocket to retrieve the packet of drugs, then. It narrowed the heat in her eyes when she considered it a moment before closing the distance once more. A smirk played her lips, mostly because she doubted he wanted to be anywhere near the thing jammed under her arm. She crumpled the favour against Sasha’s chest; didn’t let go, just waited for him to acknowledge the return. Honestly it didn’t come with the satisfaction she had envisioned. But then, she hadn’t exactly envisioned craving a repeat of a shitty fuck against a wall either. “You really thought it was a good idea to leave me payment, Sasha?”

[Sasha]

It was all so very confusing. The words, the actions, then leaving. He was left wanting more as she picked up the thing that had been in his head. He just leaned against the wall and watch, he didn't want to be anywhere closer to it than he was already but she brought it closer and pushed a bag against his chest. The pills he'd left for her. She thought.... He frowned and shook his head. "It wasn't payment. It was an offering, a favor, a you-look-like-you-need-this gesture." He leaned in close to whisper not that there was anyone to hear the words that came out of his mouth. "You are hardly a whore to pay with drugs. I would never." He had never even paid for sex with anything. Why would she think...

But all the fire was gone out of him now, including the power he had so easily grasped. He was chilled to the bone again and the fire she had started dosed with the misunderstanding. He wanted to stand up, be a dick like every other guy might who was accused of things he did not mean but instead Sasha just shook his head. "Thank you Oriena." He said with a dull ache in his voice and slipped past her. "I can find my own way home." At least he was pretty sure he could. Though he wasn't exactly fully paying attention when the bitch brought her down here. And then he had thoughts of revenge, on how he could burn her place to the ground. He might actually do that. If he could get out of the tunnels...

[Oriena]

Why did he need to lean in like that? It wasn’t confrontational. It wasn’t posturing or challenge or even want, not in the way she recognised it. Instead it was consuming in a quieter way. The tunnels swallowed sound, dampened breath, and still Sasha managed to pitch those words for her alone, like they were a confidence rather than a defence – like it mattered that she know. The attention shivered through her, unwelcome and electric. He had the audacity to be sincere in a world that had taught her everyone had an angle, and worse, he didn’t even claim the moment. He didn’t wait to see if it landed. Didn’t stand his ground or look for absolution. He just said it, honestly, and then he turned away, already withdrawing, already assuming he’d crossed a line and paid for it.

He was offended. Not angry – just hurt. Quietly. Like it was just another thing he’d learned to absorb.

Ori didn’t reach out. Didn’t stop him slipping past her. Had nearly anyone else walked away from her like that, she’d have let them struggle their own way through the tunnels without a backward thought for their welfare. But she was beginning to realise Sasha expected to be discarded. And the more neatly he aligned her with that expectation, the more her contrary nature flared. It wasn’t compassion that rooted her to the spot – it was defiance. If he was going to slot her into the shape the world had taught him to expect, then fuck it, she’d break the mould just to spite the narrative.

Far worse things had been assumed of Oriena. Whore wasn’t even the most insulting in the list – which wasn’t to say she wouldn’t have crucified anyone stupid enough to try it in earnest. Returning the drugs had been a transaction she could reject. Pity she could spit back. It was that simple. She had wanted a reaction from him, just not that one. Because there was nothing here to fight or tear down. No accusation she could answer with teeth. Just honesty, offered without leverage, and then withdrawn like he didn’t deserve to see what it did to her. Ori had wanted a reason to wash him from her system. A reason to stop thinking about the warmth of his fingers at her fucking throat.

But she didn’t get one. It irritated the hell out of her.

“What I needed,” she told Sasha, dry and unapologetic, “was to not wake up with Ezekiel in my face. He’s a cunt. You know that, right?”

A beat. She rolled her eyes in the dark.

“Of course you don’t.”

She stepped after him properly then, invading his space the way she always did when she wanted control – or wanted something at least. The lines had always been flexible. She didn’t bother to hide the way her eyes dragged over him, assessing, lingering, unapologetically aware of what it did to him. If he was going to look at her like that, like she was something dangerous and desirable in equal measure, she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know it.

“You’re not going home,” she said, casually, like it was already decided. Her gaze locked up on his, daring him to argue, daring him to run. She already knew he wouldn’t. He might flinch, might hesitate, but he wouldn’t bolt. Her stride carried her past him. He wasn’t channeling anymore; she could tell that by the way he carried himself. And she doubted he knew where he was going. He was just moving. Surviving, and alone in a way she suspected he might always have been.

“You can come with me,” she continued, voice low and edged with a promise she didn’t bother to define, but her eyes were glittering as she turned on her heel for a few backward steps. Heat that had nothing to do with anger. “Or you can freeze halfway there and pretend that’s a choice.”

The smirk she gave him was razor-sharp, teasing, and entirely unrepentant.

“Never said I was done with you, Sasha.”

She didn’t know why she wanted him. He irritated her. He feared her. He folded instead of fighting – and still, somehow, he cut under her skin like a stuck splinter. And Oriena had never been very good at walking away from those kinds of things. Especially when they followed her willingly into the dark.

[Sasha]

Oriena grabbed his arm. The touch was possessive and firm. Sasha was in lock step when she moved with him. He want sure what she meant and he still want sure why she was here or why she cared. They weren't friends, barely more than dealer and druggie. But he went with her.

"Zeke saved me I owe him. that was all he would say on that he liked the look in her eyes that said there might be more waiting wherever they were going. And Sasha was grateful that she was taking him from this horrible place. He'd lived here for a while. But he still didn't like it. It was cold and damp and he covered at the memories.

He glanced down at the package Ori carried. " What are you going to do with that?"