He hadn’t said anything to anyone the night before, but the realization of what had happened to Jeremy still weighed on him, and he felt partly responsible. As he sat around the campfire, listening to, and occasionally participating in others’ stories, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should talk over his guilt with Charles, or perhaps even Brandon. He’d received, and accepted, the apologies from both Endrik and Brandon. Thinking it over a little more, he supposed that he should feel more disgusted with being fine what happened, after having read the reports of the kind of people they were; perhaps his guilt only lay with Jeremy having not been spared, as it was theoretically possible he could have been redeemed.
He sighed. He’d just have to wait on that. Charles was supposed to find someone who could help him speak with Jeremy’s spirit, but for all he knew, bits of the kid had glued his knee back together. At the thought of this, he knocked lightly on his kneecap before reaching for a drink. Tonight was supposed to be for relaxation, he reminded himself. Looking around, he smiled and laughed along with others, but he couldn’t keep his mind on good times. The group, to him, consisted of old friends, new friends, and lovers. He felt there was a definite divide there, mostly because some were part of the new world he found himself in. It was doubtful if anyone but himself noticed.
Glancing over to Ryan and then Alyssa, he smiled. He’d worried so much the previous day that he’d lost them both, but he hadn’t. He was elated at that, and hoped things would work out. They needed to work out a base agreement, as Ryan had suggested, but the prospects of other sexual partners (at the very least) hadn’t escaped Nick’s thoughts either throughout all of this. He had, after all, only ever had two partners, both from relationships. As his mind wandered onto this new topic, he scolded himself. He could think about it plenty when he was alone. Probably, he should blame Brandon, since he hadn’t really started thinking like this until he met the older man. Pinching the bridge of his nose a moment, he reached for a snack, his mind wandering adjacent to its previous topic. He had come to terms with death years ago, after his first couple of kills. It was never easy, but there was always a reason, even if he didn’t understand it. Eventually, he embraced this idea, and supposed that now, he was still okay with it. If whatever deity set things in motion for someone to die, what was he to question?
He shook his head slightly, sighed a little, then went for his guitar again. Not really looking to play, more to just declutter his mind. So, like every other time, his fingers found their way over the strings, collecting notes from seemingly nothing as he tried to empty his mind and think only of his music – music that people enjoyed; music that moved them. Moved them…had he been seeing things earlier when he played one of his own songs? He felt perhaps he must have – Vince didn’t seem like the time to get overly emotional, yet he swore the other man had as he played. Curious.
I should make plans soon. He thought. Sayuri had found success with getting her art sold, and it had reminded him of what Brian May had told him – that he showed promise. I should call him, get some recording in. Maybe…just maybe… His thoughts trailed off again as he focused on the music. He needed to find a way to balance his life, he figured – his desires and his obligations.
Obligations…he didn’t have many. There was work, which practically didn’t count. There was his sister, whom he’d promised to help – there had to be a way. Maybe, with enough study, enough magick, he could help her. But that would take a while, and he was hoping there were others who might be able to help her much sooner. Mostly, there was his work for Brandon, and it was here he paused in his playing.
Brandon’s task for them was simple enough recon, even if it was taking a while. He felt he could understand, in a certain sense, how Brandon must feel, with his… friend? Daughter? … whatever she was to him, exactly, wasn’t the point. The point was Brandon sought help for her before seeking justice. Even the seeking of justice, he did not fault. He felt he would act similarly, were his sister in a similar situation – he’d always tried to look out for her, after all.
Progress felt slow, yes…but wasn’t it good progress, at least? Hopefully soon, there would be a bigger breakthrough. Hopefully sooner, rather than later, they would be able to pinpoint the guy they were after. But what would happen after the task was complete? Would Brandon keep any of them around after that? A note of panic entered his psyche at this thought, but he quashed it. Surely, he could continue to be useful to Brandon in some capacity beyond the current task, yes? It was something that would eventually need to be talked over, for sure.
He felt a cold nose at his elbow and a slight whine. He set the guitar down and rested a hand on Chase’s head. He’d sensed his master’s discomfort, and was trying to console him – he was a good dog. After petting him for a bit, Nick put the guitar back and put effort into focusing on his friends. After all, he had to catch Rick before he told too many stories.