The pads of Rush’s fingers linger against Jode’s bare collarbone. Practice was done.

The showers were empty now, the lingering steam sticks to their skin.
“You were great today Lady.” Rush’s voice was…quieter than Jode was used to, but the moment was nice, she couldn’t complain.

“It was just practice, Rush.” She leans back into him, she recognizes the ware and tear cotton shirt. It’s hers.

“That’s my shirt, fucker.” Jode turns around, letting her arms snake around Rush’s waist.

“Listen, I think I just pull it off better.” Rush is smirking up at her now.

Jode rolls her eyes, “Oh yeah, wanna steal anything else from my closet next time?”

“Well, I’ll think about it,” Rush’s hands move up and down Jode’s back. “But, Lady, I could imagine a few pieces of clothes on the f–”

Before Rush can finish his sentence, Jode is whipping the shirt off from the hem. Rush’s arms are thrown back in confusion, and Jode takes off running.

Rush stands their dumbfounded and shirtless, before yelling after her with a wild grin, “You bitch!”

Rush wakes up.

Again.

Jode is long asleep next to him, the top of her breast peeking out of the duvet. She’s drooling on the pillow again, but he can’t bring himself to be too upset.

The longer he watches her, the more he lets himself relax. He counts the lines on her face, the creeping crows feet in her corners, even in the dark, the sunspots that dance across her cheeks are clear as day.

Rush lets out a quiet sigh.

He slides out from under the covers, cringing at the cold air that slams against his body. He moves as quiet as he can, picking up articles of clothing and shoving them on as he goes.

Suddenly, as he desperately slides his sock onto his left foot, Rushito scurries between his legs. At least the little beast understood what he needed.

He forgoes the helmet Jode begs him to wear, he can say he’s sorry later.

By the time his boots hit the gravel, Rushito is running in front of him, morphing, shifting–

His bike is in front of him now, the beastly purr of the engine rattles his bones just a bit, but he jumps on regardless.

Then Rush just drives.

He drives.

He drives.

Why he agreed to go with Jode on a hunt in the Florida countryside, he couldn’t explain why.

Qais asks, Liam giggles, Rigby and Fran roll their eyes.

He follows her anyways,

The night sky without the hell that is blood or peanut or eclipse weather is clear, nicer than most nights in the neon hellscape that is Miami, so eventually, as the stars roll by, he stops.

His boots hit the pavement and Rushito is between his feet again, it scurries off into the trees, in search of something to eat no doubt, and Rush takes the opportunity to lean against a thick oak close to the shoulder.

Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he shimmies out a cigarette from the crushed pack. He feels around in the other two pockets–

He let Jode borrow it, didn’t he.

Rush sticks the cigarette in his mouth. Rolling his eyes, he snaps his fingers, and a purple flame engulfs his pointer finger. He lights the tip and takes a breath.

He moves his finger away, but does not put out the flame. Instead, he stares.

That’s right.

Why did he wake up in the first place?

It’s that damn bat. Rush knows its that fucking bat.

Every night it’s the same. Dream–vision maybe?

Every fucking night, he’s been waking up suffocating. It’s a blinding light. It’s a dark void. He loses the ability to breathe every single time.

It’s light.

It’s heat.

It’s Jode Crutch, and every night, she stands at the end of his world.

“You’re glowing lady.” Rush is staring at her with raised eyebrows.

Jode clutches the sawed off bat tighter, hoping maybe it would feel less heavy in her palm, “I don’t know if you can tell jackass, but I’m not in the mood to flirt.”

“I’m speaking literally,” Rush’s chuckle sounds more nervous than anything. He slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out a small metal square. Flipping it up, Jode’s eye catches the flutter of pre-roll papers.

“Look for yourself.”

Rush holds out a small mirror. Jode looks.

Then she stares.

The dark brown of her eyes she’s used to is replaced with a cyan hue. Scattered across her face are specks of the same glowing gamma, sickly neon freckles across her face and neck.

Jode’s eyes go wide, they meet with Rush’s concerned ones before they slowly move down to the Iffey in her hands.

Jode takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes. Even then, the glow shines through her eyelids.

She lifts her fingers, one by one, her skin sticks to the wood grain for fractions of a second before separating.

The useless bat lands on the carpet with a thud.

When she opens her eyes again, Rush is still holding the mirror. The glow has faded, her skin is still as sunworn as ever, her eyes are back to amber.

“Son of a bitch…” Rush lets it slip out of his mouth before he closes the mirror.

“Yeah…” Jode looks back down at the bat, Rushito is standing between her feet now, keeping its distance from the thing.

Jode gives herself a moment of hesitation, a moment to consider walking away, before she bends down and picks up the bat again. Rushito skitters away, crawling up Rush’s pant leg before climbing to his usual spot on his shoulder. Jode can see the glow, radiating off of Rush’s dark eyes.

“Whatever you had in that mirror, roll me one would you?” Jode turns around and begins to walk away, not wanting to see whatever emotions would come across Rush’s face.

“Yeah–Yeah of course lady,” Rush sighs, gives one last glance to the omen in her hands, and follows after her.