11:00, Port Ashthrone, Fort Pael

Feeling left his fingertips first, then washed out of his hands — a slow crawl through his arms, his failsafe keeping the vampire's venom from chewing at the important bits he needed to do his job. Storm clouds rumbled in his ears, the shift in pressure popping his ears and made it difficult to breathe underwater. It bubbled up to a tempest of surface to contrast the calm underneath. Alarms rang out. People shouted until it whittled away into the drone of white noise. There was never any point fighting drowning, the water was too strong a force. Keep your eyes open. His eyelids weighed further. Keep your eyes open. He tried to open them, but there were stronger forces than water, his constant state of sleep pulling him further into the swallowed depths. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Keep them open! You have to stay awake, Lyon!

"You've certainly entangled yourself dangerously, Detective Eldridge, all because you believe it safer for the Normals and your baby brother," a deep, feminine voice remarked. "I fail to understand why you'd lock your powers so deeply when it's half your life-force. It gives your blood such... a unique taste. Namely, tasteless." A finger poked his cheek, until something ice-cold wrapped around his neck. "I've exacted my price."

Lyon snapped open his eyes and whipped his head to Circe, ignoring the sweeping electric jolts along his shoulders. "You took too much."

Circe tossed a stray strand of waving browns behind her. "I keep track of how much I take — don't want to overindulge, after all." Her fingers tapped the clipboard on the table, though when he tried to move, his body refused to obey, even when he tried to light up the fire in it. "Oh, no no, Lyon, I think your body is trying to tell you something. No matter how much you try, Eldridge, you can't ignore what you are. It is a part of you, and if you do, it has dangerous results." She licked her lips, and his fingers trailed the cold wrap around his neck. "I've powered a portal for you to return home, I'll have Barghest deliver your car as if it had never gone anywhere." Her smile brightened, and he spotted his blood coated onto her fangs. "Oh, I hope you didn't think I'd let you drive in such a state. You're more likely to end up in the lake and drown. Not an idea you're unfamiliar with, right?" Lyon went to swipe at her, but she leaned out of reach with a tsk. "Such petulance. I could always force you to remain, but I feel like that would upset our partnership." Her fingers snapped, and he hunched his shoulders when parts of the room changed to reveal a whirling mass of a portal.

Lyon forced himself to sit up, but found his face cupped in Circe's hands again. "Do be careful in the future, Detective," she cautioned. "Everything comes with a price, including what you've done to yourself." Her finger drifted along his cheekbone, and he drew himself out of her reach, the feeling in his limbs taking their sweet time in returning. Her hands found his elbows and she nodded over at the whirling portal. "That will take you straight home. Drop you on your doorstep. You know where I'll be if you need my services again." Cheeks squished as if he was nothing more than a child — and everyone was a speck of time to the indefinable, ageless Circe — he was brought closer to the portal. "Oh, and Lyon?"

"What?"

"You know as well as I do the nose for Death our dear, sweet Barghest has — and it follows your wake."

Knees made of jelly, the moment he stepped over the threshold and his venom-caused nausea brought all the bile up his throat and over his tongue. A bitter, acidic salt when he crawled his way to the lacquered patio of their house on the bend, surrounded by trees and a tiny river which fed into the massive lake. He rested his brow against the door, fumbling for his set of keys to slip it into the knob. Numbness swept through his limbs when he pushed himself through the small foyer and into the connected living and kitchen area. Where's the extract... He tore open the cupboards, his breath tasting sickly sweet on his own lips as it drained out of his body. No, no... I... The clock on the wall ticked. Another hour. Another moment when colours and objects swirled and danced on a metronome. His skull narrowly missed the edge of the counter when he went down onto the floor. Into the darkness of silence.

Thunder pounded against his ears, creaking and groaning.

Keep your eyes open!

Lyon drew his lips over his teeth to try and jolt himself back to life. Back against the counter, his hands trembled when he opened the drawers and tried to find what he sought. A tiny bottle slipped into his hands, full of garlic extract. Uncorked, he downed it all in one fell swoop, finding enough strength to get up on his feet, stumbling for the recliner. Safe in its arms, he found his pack of smoking tabs, inching one out with a shake. Pictures sat on the dresser of him, his little brother, Mom, and Dad, gone from both worlds. A white flame sparked on the end of it when he brought it to his lips, clicking on the T.V — the presses always looking for the next scoop — with the grisly murder under his investigation front and centre. Big, bold letters. Horrific crime in their little town of Port Ashthrone. A grunt left his lips when he tried to situate himself, the cold compress snug around his neck to hide away the truth of his dealings. All for information and the hunt for the truth.

The numb sensation the smoke tab brought dulled his other senses, though the celestial knife in his sheathe screamed out the blanket of lies he put around himself. Limited, Circe called it, but he had no other options. Smoke rose from his lips, golden in colours when his body worked the venom out of his system. Inner flames of the nephilim. A short laugh escaped from his lips when he held the tab over himself, where the little ember chewed and released its own splutter of flame, before bringing it down to let it rest between his lips with the clock ticking on. Duty would call eventually. Late nights of paperwork, investigations and questioning of both worlds. For now, the mantra won out, so he let the rest of the tab burn into the golden fumes, ashes in his hands until they too grew cold against his skin and disappeared.

Storms returned to him again in his dreams. Water filled his lungs when he tried to swim against the riptide. Trees cracked, the waves raged and brought him deeper into the depths. Closer to the source of Ashthrone's entrance into the Veilworld. Deeper. Darker. On and on it went, until something grabbed his shoulder and shook it. "Lyon," the voice insisted. "Lyon."

Keep your eyes open.

Lyon blinked back into the world with a blanket thrown over him. Ray loomed over him, brow quirked in confusion. "You look like shit," he stated. "Had one too many to drink?"

"...something like that." Lyon sat up further against the chair, tapping the small panel to help the process. He stilled when Ray reached out to help with a hand on his shoulder. "You're being strangely behaved, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything."

Lyon sloped his head towards his brother. "What do you want?"

"I can't just take care of my brother?"

"Ray."

"Lyon."

Lyon sighed and adjusted himself with the help. "Rough day at work, that's all." He pushed his brow into his hands to try and quell the next wave of nausea, observing Ray when he flopped onto the couch to change the channel. Wallet out of his pocket, he rifled through for spare change. "Here, order something from the steakhouse if you don't feel like cooking." Money tossed his brother's way, Ray scrambled to grab all of it. "Because I ain't cooking tonight either." His eyes drew upward at the program Ray switched to — a noir flick. It tasted ironic, bitter, and most of all, annoyed him to no end, but he kept his mouth shut with Ray's fascination for his job. Solving crimes and fighting bad guys. Bad comedy. Lyon sat back and decided to watch outside their window instead, on their property surrounded by trees. Holly and Oliver's pack somewhere close by within the woods. In the night, the howls rang through the air, never quite letting his guard down as Ray flipped through his phone, and Lyon allowed himself for the mantra to become reality.

Up until a certain someone shook him again. His hand went up to bump Ray's face. "Do you mind?"

"Fine, I'll just eat your portion then. Don't mind if I do!"

Lyon grabbed onto Ray when he heard his brother start his retreat. Brother in a headlock and out of the comfy recliner. Duty called. Always. A ferocious dizzy spell shambled in his head, but he resisted its influence to fight Ray not for the food he had put on the table after what had apparently been a couple hours of a nap, but for the remote in his hands. His fingers tangled, but he found his sense of victory when he elbowed Ray back onto the couch, turning the T.V onto a more palatable program. Educational documentaries. Ray went for another lunge when he dared to let his guard down, but he slid out of the way and said, "You can watch whatever you like when I go to bed."

"You were sleeping the entire time until now."

"Shouldn't have woken me up and threatened to eat my food and had just done it."

Keep your eyes open!

"You would've known I did it."

"Obviously. No one else lives here."

Keep your eyes open!

Lyon took out the batteries of the remote and shoved them in his pocket before handing the remote over to Ray with a smile against the constant weariness strangling his heart as he made his way to the table. As requested, Ray ordered from the steakhouse — a generous helping of strip-loins, one of them Ray's preferred well-done, and his own medium-rare. Up until his appetite dwindled at the natural sauce. Blood. He ignored it to cut it open for something to keep him awake; to keep his eyes open for as long as possible. Ray overturned the remote, throwing it back on the couch before joining him.

"Jen's having a party, by the way."

Lyon slapped his fork down. "I knew you wanted something."

"Well, you're a detective."

"No, I'm your brother." Ray shoved food into his mouth, so Lyon took his chance to dig in — to be a 'detective' as Ray so eloquently put it. "Why is Jen hosting a party this time?"

"Graduation year?"

"Graduation isn't for a few months."

Ray shrugged his shoulders and continued on, before continuing, "I know, but Jen also wanted to host it for the big game coming up soon, and I promised I'd help her set it up, but—" His words started to dwell out of his ears, the dizzy spell striking him once more, but Lyon allowed his gaze to drift at a prickle in the window. In the bushes, two beady green eyes formed out of the undergrowth, lit up against the moonlight, with Ray blabbering on with the innate power of nephilim, but the sight of a Normal. Lyon narrowed his eyes when the eyes stared at him, beckoning with two more blinks and a tail raising.

What now?

"Hey." Ray snapped his fingers. "What's up with you? You were fine yesterday and now all of a sudden you're acting weird. Did something happen at work?"

"I wouldn't be able to talk about it anyway with you even if something did."

"So... that's a yes."

Lyon looked over again. It certainly wasn't Barghest. A werewolf from the larger frame and near humanoid gait when it backed up into the bushes. In his peripheral, Ray looked over at the window, blank-faced and not bringing attention to what laid in wait in the darkness. Ray slipped out of his chair, but Lyon pointed his fork at him. "Sit down and eat. I'll be right back."

Ray drew out a sigh.

"But, since I know what you're going to ask, you can go to Jen's party — you don't need my permission."

With Ray suitably mollified, Lyon took his chance to head to the front door, though stopped to slip the batteries into the remote in full sight of Ray, who pursed his lips. Gun back in its holster, he crept out of the safety and protected atmosphere of the house and out into the lawn. It pulsed in his ears when he tread into the forest, coming to a stop when a werewolf poked its head from around a tree — an intimidating sight, had he not known the werewolf.

"You couldn't call me? Or come as a human? I'm trying to keep my brother out of this for a very good reason. We're supposed to be keeping the Veilworld separate and secret?" Their snout pointed over his shoulder, but when he looked back, he could barely see his house through the thick trees. "Holly," he drew out through his teeth. "To the point?"

A heavy breath left her snout, her tail whipping back and forth in a beckoning motion.

"Do you know how late it is?" he pressed.

Holly's brow furrowed and her lips curled to reveal the razor sharp teeth. A low, though non-threatening rumble bellowed out of her chest.

"Am I to take this that the pack has deliberated about the Normal that was attacked."

Another beckoning tail whip.

Lyon shook his head. Duty called, and all he wanted was to sleep.