'Nice to see you back at work, Piercebridge,' Doctor Barker's voice sends horrible shivers down his spine. He removes Ashton's case file from his desk and slides a different one onto the table, 'I've realised it was probably... unfair to give you such a difficult case so early. You must be a bit rusty, it has been three years.'

Doctor Barker licks his lips before continuing, 'I'll give you two easy cases. Shouldn't take any longer than three months, but I'm not going to punish you if it does. Plus, me and Niall are arranging something.'

He leaves without another word. Kristoffer opens the case file. On top is the first case file. It reveals a picture of a girl with bubble-gum pink hair in twists, adorned with delicate rainbow beads, bronze skin, and dark brown eyes that gleam innocently through the printer paper.

Maurelias Bthnejilo

Age: 17

DOB: 18th March 2002

Job: Student at an unknown school, most likely magical.

City: London

Location: Unknown

Power: Amokinesis

Previously taken into AMI?: No

Kristoffer rubs at the scar on his forehead, still a scratch but less visible now. He flips the sheet of paper over on his desk, revealing the other case. It is of a girl with golden skin, jet black hair in a fluffy, bushy afro that covers her eyes, and two long scars forming an X on her right cheek.

Ghazala Tinashe D'Cruz

Age: 17

DOB: 1st February 2002

Job: Student at an unknown school, most likely magical.

City: London

Location: Unknown

Power: Dream Manipulation

Previously taken into AMI?: No

'I'd be careful of D'Cruz if I were you, Piercebridge. She's a difficult one,' Niall is suddenly behind him. Kristoffer does not turn around.

'A lot is difficult for you, isn't it, Niall?' Kristoffer bites back, turning his laptop on. Kristoffer can't see him, but he can tell Niall is curling his nose or lip or fist or some other body part.

'Excuse me?'

Kristoffer swivels on his chair, eyes squinted at Niall's ugly face, 'I said, a lot is difficult for you, isn't it, Niall? Now leave me alone, I've got cases to be doing.'

Niall exhales sharply through his nostrils, trying his best to skulk away in his thick soled boots. As he leaves, he shouts, 'That Rockwell's sure given you some sass!'

And he shouts a word I would rather not say as it is rather nasty. Kristoffer's heart crumpled like the can of an alcoholic on the side streets at 3 am. He stands bolt upright from his seat, marching down the corridor after Niall. He grabs him by the collar, making Niall jump like he's just been shocked by an electrical fence. He spits words directly into his face with heaps of disgust and disrespect, 'Say that again. Say that fucking shit again. I dare you, Trenton. You pathetic little man.'

'Calm down there, Piercebridge,' Niall's voice is quaking like a teenage boy, his feet now off of the floor. His best attempts at a friendly smile is met with curled noses and horror-stricken eyes.

'Fuck off,' Kristoffer snarls. He throws Niall to the floor, re-entering his office.

*

krispiercebridge

I'm not taking your case anymore so I'm not going
to try to kill you again.

I'm sorry for trying in the first place.

rockingverywell

noo it's okay i'm sorry for being so rude <3

Kristoffer stares at the text, in the middle of the night, behind a run down old pub. He hears someone stand next to him but doesn't pay it any attention. He moves away from the text message, just up and down all their messages.

'Someone's reflecting.'

A voice comes from next to him. In the dark, he can see a faint outline he recognises with their wings outstretched, curly hair flying in the the wind and the faint trace of a faint smile on their face.

'Yes, I am,' Kristoffer replies, the shake of faint laughter in his tone. Ashton scoots himself closer so their shoulders are touching, the backs of their hands just slightly brushing each other.

'I'm sorry for... jumping to conclusions so quickly,' Ashton mutters, gently resting his head against the wall. Kristoffer feels a pang of nerves in his heart.

'Don't worry about it. I know what you're like.'

Ashton laughs gently, and Kristoffer feels himself slowly turning into a pathetic puddle of infatuation. He keeps it to himself though, straightening his posture and not looking back at Ashton.

'So, who is taking my case?' Ashton asks, tucking a curl behind his ear and straightening his glasses.

'They're most likely recycling it through the system,' Kristoffer replies. With every word that comes out of his mouth, he can feel him getting closer, 'I don't know who's taking it, but it could be from a month to... a few years, I guess.'

Kristoffer's breath catches in his throat when Ashton tightly hugs him. Just like last time. His heart thuds against his chest at an inhuman pace. He barely even thinks as he lowers his head down and presses his lips against Ashton's, holding his face between his hands. He can feel the coldness of the biting air residing on his cheeks, the desperation in his kiss, his bony fingers clawing gently at his back. His hands move from his face, down his body, resting on his back...

*

Roisin looks down her glasses at Kristoffer as he enters, motorcycle helmet underneath his arm. She has an eyebrow raised, obviously trying to keep her attitude solemn underneath the smug grin tugging the corners of her mouth.

'I can hear anyone arguing with Niall from miles away. What did he do?' Roisin queries, giving into the smirk on her face and entering some more numbers onto a spreadsheet.

'He... I... He called my...' Kristoffer can't find the exact words, 'Why do you need to know?'

'No reason! Just... Niall's a bit of a prick, isn't he? Like, there is no horrible slur I have not heard him say,' Roisin huffs, resting her head in her hands, elbows resting on her desk, 'Go, quick. Your shift starts in two minutes.'

As Kristoffer runs down the corridor, he keeps his eyes on the floor and his brain in the clouds. He barely even notices when he runs into a solid wall of person.

'Watch it, Piercebridge,' Niall's voice spits at his back. Kristoffer stops dead in his tracks just before he can get his hands on the doorknob. Niall waves a piece of paper patronizingly in front of his face. He catches a glimpse of the name, making him curl his fists in anxiety, 'I've got a case you'd rather not see. I'd suggest warning him.'

'Fine. Whatever,' Kristoffer mutters. Another long, repetitive day of research into cases he'll (hopefully) never complete. He takes no notice to Niall's taunts, fingers crossed under the table that it's a hoax. Niall has access to every case from his high position, no doubt that he can just pick and choose cases from underneath Dr. Barker's lumpy, hooked nose. Hours drag on for days, until his phone rings loudly from his desk.

Alexis Florakis is calling

Alexis never calls. He grins, pressing the accept button.

K: Hi Alexis, wha-

A: WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?

K: ...Pardon me?

A: Ashton! He... He... He...

K: Alexis, breathe. I'm not taking his case anymore?

A: HE'S GONE! HE'S NOT HOME!

K: Who was with him?

A: No one! Gia and I were at work, and Cheri was at Jamie's!

K: Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I'll get this solved, don't you worry.

A: You better! Who was it

K: ...I'll tell you later. Take care. Is everyone home?

A: Y-yes.

K: Close all the curtains, lock the doors and put something heavy in front of the front door. I'll get him home in due course.

A: Thank you so much!

Kristoffer's red hot rage courses through his veins. His door slams against the wall as he flings it open, storming through the hallways with his shoulders up high and eyes roving for Niall's office. It wasn't a joke. His heart pounds with ice cold yet white hot fury and fear.

'Niall!' He shouts as he opens the door. Niall furrows his pale brows at him, a smug smirk on his face, 'Where is he? What did you do to him?'

'Same as last time.'

'You... you fucking...'

'You you you you you,' Niall mocks in a baby voice, his evil laughs ringing through the office. It chills Kristoffer to his core, nearly knocking him to the floor. He can feel the red hot tears streaming down his face as Niall continues, 'He's not dead. Yet.'

'Niall.'

'He's probably dying as we speak, Piercebridge. Lying on the floor with his burnt wings... Bleeding hopelessly like a teenage girl, sobbing like the little bitch he is... I'd suggest finding him if you want him to live for any longer. I know you'd like him to stay on this earth for just a bit longer. You need something to fuck, you pathetic little...'

'Niall.'

Dr. Barker stands staring over Kristoffer's shoulder, much to their shock. Dr. Barker towers over Kristoffer, his head nearly hitting the doorframe on the way into the room. He shoves past Kristoffer, slamming the door in the poor man's face. Kristoffer feels numb. So numb. His body feels out of place in the hallways, in the building, in the city London, in the country England, in Europe, in the world, in the Milky Way, in the universe.

Do you ever get that feeling? Where nothing feels real, but everything feels too real? Yeah, that's what Kristoffer feels right now.

He tries to take himself toward the room Ashton was in last time, his feet too heavy and his brain lolling to the sides of his head like butter in a frying pan. He tries not to think about the horrible images Niall planted into his head. His hopes of Ashton not being dead are held together with a few pieces of cardboard, string, tape, and PVA glue like a children's school project.

112. Here he is. With trembling hands, he takes the key card from around his neck and unlocks the door. No lights are on, Nothing can be seen. The sounds of shaking sobs fill the room, echoing off the walls and bouncing around.

'Ashton?' Kristoffer follows the sound of the painful sobs, his heart cracking like a piece of porcelain on your nan's mantle. He finally find the small, skinny body of someone heaving with sobs. He falls to his knees in front of his, planting his lips on his in a tender kiss. He holds his face between his hands. Like he always does. He feels a deep wound on his right cheek, oozing blood, 'Shh, I'm here. What happened? Did Niall do this to you?'

Ashton's horrifyingly hiccoughed sobs of terror ease at Kristoffer's voice. Kristoffer wraps his arms around Ashton's body, feeling his melt slightly under his gentle touch. He can feel an unknown force tearing his heart clean in two at the feeling of his wings. All the beautiful feathers he had regrown... gone. Piles of ash on the floor. The usually silky feeling replaced by dry, ashy bones on his back.

'Niall. He...' Ashton can barely get his words out, his throat catching every syllable into a panicked breath, 'He got out that stupid fucking lighter and I...'

'Don't worry, I'm here now. I'm going to get you out of here.' Kristoffer reassures, giving Ashton another tender kiss and tucking a ginger curl behind his ear, 'You'll be okay. It's all okay.'

'We'll stay here while I make a plan, okay?'

'Okay.'

'Are your glasses okay?'

'Broken.'

'Fuck.'

'...You need to stop saving me.'

'No. Because I love you.'

'...I love you too.'

It was another big family dinner. Christmas, to be exact. Kristoffer's mother would always laugh and say "Haha, Kris-Mas! There's a whole holiday based on you!". No one found it very funny. This specific Christmas in 2012 was difficult. 17 year old Kristoffer was sat at a corner of the kids table, knees over the actual little white table covered by a dotty plastic sheet. He and his four sisters had between ten and fifteen kids circling their ankles, pulling their hair, and screaming into their ears. Kristoffer keeps looking over to the adults table, seeing one person missing. His mother being in the hospital for an already difficult Christmas made things even harder. He was even beginning to miss the Kris-Mas jokes.

'Kristoffer, can you help me clear the plates?' His Aunt Helena had asked, her waist-length braids adorned with colourful extensions and various pieces of tinsel, a silly reindeer headband sat on top of her head, a Christmas jumper on her plump body.

'Sure, yeah,' Kristoffer was looking for an honest excuse to leave the room anyways. He took two stacks of plates into his hands and arms, trying not to trip down the mini staircase between the kitchen and dining room. The Christmas tree in the living room was sparkling with the rainbow fairy lights, sentimental ornaments hanging from the scratchy plastic branches. Seeing the carefully handcrafted angel on top of the tree gave him a pang of guilt, reminding him of the two beautiful, glossy white wings that had stemmed from Ashton's back only a few months ago. His reaction was intense, and he felt so stupid for it. The more he thought of the pair of fluttering feathered wings, the more he fell in love with the thought of him.

'How's sixth form going, Kristoffer?' Aunt Helena asked, beginning to scrape leftovers into the bin and placing stuff into the dishwasher. Kristoffer begins to dully explain how school is going, containing wide vocab including "yeah", "uh", "so", "basically", and "pretty good" at least twenty times. He begins to explain the three subjects he chose (maths, chemistry, design technology). His aunt turned her grey-blue hawk eyes to him and asked, 'Do you still talk to Ashton? He's such a lovely boy, I wondered if he'd be coming round...'

Kristoffer freezes up, heart thudding out of his chest, 'I... he had family stuff.'

No more words needed to be said. Kristoffer just silently left the kitchen, sitting down at the Christmas tree and observing the piles upon piles of gifts for his family. He noticed a box he didn't see earlier with star wrapping paper and a golden bow. Attached to the golden bow was a glossy white feather. There was a name label on it. It read;

To: Kristoffer

Love from: Ashton