"I'm telling you right now, that if you don't give him more blood, he's going to die," Fate growled out through clenched teeth, bracing his arms on the cold metal of the table as he glared at the shaking man standing opposite him. The light flickered above his head, the glitch causing the pale body sprawled out on the table to blink out of existence for a moment. Fate almost wished that he would do so permanently; the ginger imbecile had caused him enough grief to last a human lifetime. It would give him nothing but relief to see the boy lifeless and boiled in a pot of his own tainted blood. But, for the sake of Oscar, he had to keep him alive. For, the very moment that Luke made a move to stop breathing would be the exact same time that his idiot disciples made a move to throttle the guy he loved. 

"B...but sir," the man across from him stuttered, shaking as he felt the pure power radiating off of the deity in front of him, "it's the blood that is killing him, isn't it?" The man was a doctor who had once been a master of his field, someone who had faced death in the eye and stared him down, saving lives left and right whilst watching people take their last breath under his care. But, yet, he had never been more terrified than he was now. Fate's eyes were glowing greener than ever in the dim light, jaw wound tight as he stared him right in the eye. The doctor had never come across someone with so much presence, with the power to make even the tallest man feel small when he walked into a room. That, and the doctor knew exactly who he was. And what he was capable of. 

"He's going to die anyway, idiot." Fate's tone was incredibly condescending, his words almost reminiscent of a mother scolding her child.  It was approaching the sound of something airy, uncaring, something that was in no way reflective of the inner turmoil rusting over in his head. Flashing images of Oscar bleeding out while he was just standing there. Helpless. Everything inside his head had grown over the horrific thoughts, buried deep but everpresent and impossible to rip out without taking the rest of his soul with it. As much as he hated Luke, he may as well have been the only thing keeping Oscar alive. "His body started decaying as soon as the blood entered his body. But, at the same time, his body became more addicted to each new dose that he took. It's gotten to the point where he'll die if he doesn't have it, because his body has become reliant on it. However, the blood slowly kills him. I estimate he has about a month before he dies. It's almost as if the body fools itself, addicted to the blood and convinced it needs it to survive, when in reality it's the blood that's killing him." 

"Isn't there a way to prevent his death?"

Fate sighed, leaning forwards onto the table until his arms began to shake with the weight they were taking without bending. He closed his eyes, pushing all visions of the future out of his mind as he imagined exactly what would happen when Luke was to die. He had stopped himself from seeing the future a long time ago, as seeing things before they came was often too much for him to take. Especially when he had strict laws preventing him from altering the fate of the universe in a way that was too damaging. Or helpful, for that matter. The laws restricted him in a way that made him almost as useless and pathetic as a human. And it sucked about as much as it pissed him off, but he didn't make up the rules, no matter how much he wanted to. And, as much as he pretended to be, he really wasn't the one in power. So, as soon as he had trained himself how to, which had been centuries ago now, he had prevented himself from seeing the future. It was too taunting. Too painful. To see horrors and torment that he could so easily change but was prevented from doing so by some asshole sitting all high and mighty on a throne made out of the thoughts of every living thing. 

Fate clenched his fists at the thought of the bastard, of his dark blue eyes and deep brown hair. His sneering smile as he ordered everyone around him to do whatever the hell he wanted. The way he so foolishly kept himself in power, restricting all others with the ability to take it from him by stupid laws that left about half the world suffering from his poor judgement. Shaking his head to rid himself of that nasty piece of work, he opened his eyes to look back at the shaking doctor. "No," he said plainly, the word firm and decisive. He had tried to save Luke the moment he drank that blood, knowing that the only way to prevent his end would be to get the first dose out of his system. But look where that had gotten him. Absolutely flipping nowhere. 

Luke could hear Fate's words as if they were a mile away, a far off place diagnosing his future as he was forced to suffer through his past. Still sitting in a bubbling sea of memories, he could feel all he had been through swirling and jumping around him in the form of boiling water, burning into his skin and cooking him alive. 

He was fifteen now, and he had spent the last year trying to kid himself that he could ever have a chance with Bronwyn. He had avoided the judging gazes of her parents and ignored the way they so blatantly talked about finding Bronwyn a proper husband in front of him. It had come to the point where Bronwyn refused to ever invite him around, always suggesting that they go out for a nice meal instead or meet over at his place so that she could see his little brother, Liam, who she had grown quite fond of over the years. Neither of them discussed the topic of their obviously disapproved relationship and it was a hurdle that they both constantly managed to jump over. Although it constantly plagued both their minds. Bronwyn was tortured with the thought of Luke living his life with the weight of her parents' judgement and Luke was desolate with the thought of living life without Bronwyn.

But they continued to make each other happy, despite their forced ignorance, and Luke tried his hardest to be the best he could possibly be for her. And everyone noticed the difference when she was around him, the way he seemed to smile more and how he immediately attended to her every need. She was almost all he talked about at home and everyone could see that he was head over heels in love with her. Even in his early teen years. To his parents, it was made obvious by the person he was becoming. For, to them, love meant being changed in a positive way around the loved one. And, to Liam, it was the greatest love story he had ever seen. It was something he aspired to. Something that he wished he could have for himself someday. In fact, the only people who disapproved of their relationship was Bronwyn's family. Which was an absolute shame, really, because that harmed Luke's confidence more than he cared to admit. He constantly felt as if he wasn't good enough, and became ever more interested in questioning his younger brother on what visions were like. Perhaps so that he could have a little more in common with Bronwyn. Perhaps to reassure himself that he wasn't so different after all. That he was worthy of her.

It was after a very enjoyable trip to the movies with Bronwyn that he had returned home to see Flynn sitting in the middle of the stairs. With his little blonde head in his hands as his two friends sat either side of him, looking a bit unsure as to how to comfort their companion. Which was fair enough, in all honesty, because, at the age of twelve, they had been rather sheltered from the world and had yet to understand how to comfort pain. And the same could have been said to Luke, at the age of fifteen, but he was in a very good mood after his outing with Bronwyn, which had very much put him in the state of mind to force everyone around him to be as happy as he was. So, shooing the younger boys away with the mention of the PlayStation in the other room, he set himself down next to the shaking twelve-year-old. 

By this point, Luke wasn't all that close with Flynn. He knew him, of course, and they shared the occasional joke or conversation, but the two boys could only really be considered as close acquaintances. However, despite their lack of interaction, the two boys had a lot more in common than they first thought.

"What's wrong, buddy?" It was something he had heard his mother say to Liam after one of his visions. Something that he had heard his father say to Liam when he saw him sitting alone in a dark corner of the room thinking about one of his visions.

Flynn shook his head quickly from side to side, bringing his knees up closer as he attempted to hibernate away from the world. His whole body was hunched over on itself, shying away from Luke's words as he pushed himself further into his own self-sorrow. Things had been getting harder at home recently, a lot harder and recently...recently things had escalated so much that...that he didn't really know which way was up anymore. And he...he couldn't tell his friends because they...they both had such wonderful families and he...he didn't think that they would understand. 

"You can tell me, it's okay." This was one of the things that he had heard Bronwyn say to Liam. After one of his visions. Urging him to tell her what had troubled him so much about the future. Assuring him that it would feel better once he told someone about it. "It'll feel better if you tell someone about it."

Flynn muttered something incomprehensible, murmured into the crook of his knee as he refused to meet Luke's eyes. Luke only managed to catch one phrase, and it was something that made his eyes widen in shock. He hadn't really known what to expect when trying to cheer up the younger boy, but it was certainly not something like this. It was something that made him hope that he had heard wrong. And his words shook when he asked for a repetition of the statement, not quite wanting to believe that it was true. "I...I...mummy split up with dad and then...then she just left and she...she didn't take me with her and...and she left all of us behind and then dad...dad got really mad and he...he said it was my...my fault be...because I...I had made her stop loving him and then...then he...he hit me."