Spoiler: Notes

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James was a detective who lived in a small town of 3000. He'd long since made his peace with his role in life through liberal amounts of drinking, smoking, and long nights. There as a knocking at his door, he pulled his feet off the table and opened the door.

It was an old flame, Rae, probably not her real name but that hardly matter then and didn't at all now. Everything about her reeked of his misadventurous youth. The short, tight blonde hair, and the long legs that ran on forever. The familiar limp she now sported however was new to him. He narrowed his eyes at her as she began to speak.

"That was a nice night, James... nicer than I've had in a while," she said, watching him take a long drag on his cigar.

"I thought those were supposed to be bad for you."

"They are, but then, so are you," he muttered, watching her lip twitch. It was the closest she generally came to laughter, least of all today. Something was on her mind, and it wasn't the steady blackening of his lungs.

A sudden whine broke the tension. You looked down to see your mutt wagging his tail. Bartholomew was missing half his ear and flecks of grey spotted his fur, but there was no other partner you trusted more.

"I see you kept the dog," Rae's voice was tinged with a hint of disgust.

You give her a baleful look, "He hardly had anywhere else to go."

"And whose fault is that," she said, an eyebrow cocked, and a hint of a smile.

"Hmph, as nice as it is to relive our greatest hits Rae, why are you here?"

"You've been no fun since Istanbul, its Gaius, he was found dead two weeks ago and if he's dead, you're next. Thought I'd give you a head start."

There was a pause.

"Christ," he said, "christ."

He reached up for his man-bun, let it down, and ran his hand through the long dirty-blond hair. "Christ. This is the first you're saying about it? What do you know, what happened? Tell me everything. I want to know everything you know!"

He turned and kicked out at the fire-hydrant next to it. He stamped on it. Stamped, stamped again. Bartholomew whined.

"God damn it, Rae."

"Let me know when you're done with your tantrum," her voice belayed none of the irritation that showed on her face.

"Yeah fuck you too," said James, as he took in one last, long drag of his cigarette before stamping that out too.

"Alright, Rae. You're here because you know that once they get me, they'll come for you. You've got some sort of plan, half-baked and cock-brained as it probably will be. Out with it, please."

"Fine, but not here," she said, "Follow me."

James nodded. He took the spare bobble he carried from his wrist and tied his hair back.

"Let's go," he said. Bartholomew led the way, haring off and turning back to look at them and check they were following. She led him to a panel van. If she wasn't a stone-cold fox it might be a little more concerning.

"When are you going to tell me about those tattoos then, James?"

He looked at the tattoos on his arm, the memory of a darker time, before he forgot gay shit and learned to live in the real world. Always. That was behind him now.

You look at them carefully and you decide she isn't quite ready to learn, "Your plan?"

Her eyes lit up with a wild fire that made him think of cigarette smoke and cheap booze in his old Datsun, and an open road with wide expanses on either side.

"We destroy the Idol of Hecate," she said with a reckless grin, "We smash that piece of trash, and They won't pursue you any longer."

"You speak so flippantly about returning to that hell hole," you say anger welling in your gut, "There was a reason we never destroyed it before, do you not remember Antonius or Marcus?"

She flinched back as if you struck her, before narrowing her eyes, "How could I forget, I lost my sister in that place," she snarled out.

"I'm sorry, it's just I can't not think about them when I see you. Do you know how they escaped after all these years, I thought the seal would hold them at least until I died."

"No. I have no idea. I've studied your seal, I've studied the Others for four years. It's just... It shouldn't have been possible. Physics doesn't permit it, magic doesn't permit, not even a godling could bend the rules that far."

For the first time since she arrived, real emotion flickered across her visage. Horrified by the expression, James turned away, reaching into his pocket for his smokes.

Ten minutes and another cigarette later, the pair found themselves driving down a pothole-riddled road in Rae's van. It really looked like shit. The model number had been clawed off by some beast, acid had ruined the paint job, and the wheel caps had been melted off. The inside was the only part of the machine that looked vaguely serviceable.

"I'm taking us to an old hideout," said Rae, breaking the silence, "They shouldn't know about it, I haven't been there in over a decade."

James nodded, absently. Secrecy was Rae's specialty. With this, he trusted her judgement.
There was a moment’s pause and he spoke before he could help it. Despite everything. “You never said,” said James, “how’s m—“ She almost jerked the van off the road.

“Sorry,” he said, “how’s your daughter?”

Her hands seemed to grip the steering wheel tighter. The old van continued to plug along down the road. Silence reigned for several seconds before Rae spoke,

"She's....fine. Engaged actually."

James started.

"Fuck."

Nothing more was said and the smell of cigarettes caused Bartholomew to whine. The beat up old van pulled in front of a dingy, mexican restaurant. The open sign flickered and James raised his brow, "Tacos?"

They were huddle over their food in silence, "Your limp, where'd it come from?"

"I was there when Gaius died, even though I knew They wouldn't hurt me, flight or fight yaknow? I jumped off a fire escape, and my legs never been right since."

He sat back, the brutal reminder of his situation making the food seem suddenly less appetising.

"There's one thing that's bothering me about this," he said, twirling his fork. "What makes you think that I want your help? Need it, maybe. Want it though? That's a different story altogether."

At her silence he leaned forward and continued. "I haven't exactly been idle these past few years you know. I had a dream once. I was going to be the best. Like noone ever was. You wrecked that dream."

She smirked, perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching in question.

"Do you regret it?"

He sat, frozen for a minute, then leant back with a deep sigh.

"Regret? How can I not?"

The smirk remained, challenging now.

"...and yet."

"...And yet, it's a cute thought, you had. As if you could ever be great without me," Rae said in a suddenly bored voice. It told James he had struck a nerve.

"Your pride may not allow you to admit it, but we work well together. Better than alone. Is it so hard to believe that I think we could save our lives better with each other than if the Others come to pick us off one by one?" She set her fork down, metal loud against the table.

"And, yes, I have my daughter to think about. She's innocent of all this. Studying to become a veterinarian of all things. I'd rather not have her wake up one night, her fiance looming over her with glowing orange eyes, teeth poised above her neck. The Others will come for her too. You know they will."

The threat hung in the air.

A sudden shift twisted in the air and the aura at the table changed. James sighed once again. It seemed he could never have a decent conversation with Rae. He spoke in a hoarse voice,

"Hello, Gaius. Possessing the living already I see."

Rae's body carried itself differently now. Whereas before she exuded seduction, it was now hunched over, the posture of a man long past his prime. An unnatural voice emitted from her lips,

"The lining between the living and the dead were always my speciality, Octavian."

"I go by James now, Gaius. You know this."

"Fucking modern names. Never understood why you and Cleo were so determined to blend in."

"It draws less attention."

"It ignores who you are!"

Silence filled the air and James felt his tattoos begin to itch.

"What do you want, Gaius?"
He opened Rae's mouth to reply, but it was enough. He was done with this shit. He had a normal life. A normal human life, and he was done with this gay shit.

He smashed one hand down, flat on the table. Let out a trickle of the power that had once drawn Rae to him. Before everything else about him pushed her away. Small flecks of concrete dust fell from the ceiling and the empty taco-bar shook for a few seconds but it was enough, and that was it. Gods, he was strong once.

Rae swooned, slumping in her booth, "...James?" she asked.

"Gaius," he replied.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "That fuck," she said. But her eyes were downcast and her words slurred.

His strength was not what it once was, and his spirit lingered, her mouth opened and contorted in odd ways.

His voice was like a tape played backwards but still coherent "We are coming, Marcus, Antonius, and Julia, I try to delay but this worm in my mind, it gnaws."

"Did the girl truly inherit the curse?"

"I am afraid so old friend."

"Damn it all to hell. I was the one who touched the idol not her!"

"Whatever it is, its beyond caring now. Time grows short I must leave. Find Cicero he is your only hope now." Rae slumped over in her seat.
From the corner of his eye, James noticed a weird shape. Risking whiplash, he turned to see the figure of his childhood hero, Optimus Prime, staring at him from outside the window.

"Holy fuck."
Rae tsked sluggishly. "Don't trust the visions, you fool. What exactly have you been doing these past few years, if the symptom of viewing a possession catches you off-guard? Eating cheetos in front of the tv?"

James glared.

"That was the plan, remember?"

"I fought my fight, paid my dues and then slunk away into anonomity with the tattered remnants of my life!"

He laughed, a hollow sound, broken and defeated.

"You really think I live in this place for the scenery? I. Was. Done."

Rae slumped in her chair, toying with the remnants of her meal.

"Yet here we are."

Their conversation died, and when it died, so did the sounds of the resturant around them. The sounds of the line cooks in the back faded, the waitress stopped moving from table to table and her face went slack.

"James, what's going on?" asked Rae.

"I don't know, someone farted maybe?"

"I don't think now is the time for sarcasm."

James turned around to look at his surroundings better. The sounds of breaking glass and Rae screaming his name was the last thing he heard before he was slammed bodily into the counter. His vision swam, his world went black.

He jumped up. Smashed his knee straight into the table.

“Yet here we a— what the fuck!” said Rae.

“Something’s fucking with my head,” he said, “I don’t know. Maybe something with Gaius.”

He grabbed her wrist, pulled her from the booth, dragged her so quick it took a couple of steps for her to get to walking.

“Come on,” he said.

They left the taco hut, while the waitress was still behind some door or another. A simple exertion of that same power kept the bell from jingling. The panel van sat at the back of lot.

James smashed the back window of the Buick close to him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” shouted Rae. “That’s not exactly low-key.”

“I don’t go by Loki anymore. Or Octavian.” He wrapped his fist in his jacket and cleaned out the trailing glass. He popped the lock and opened the door.

“Get. In.” he growled.

She ripped her hand back, stepping back. “You’re being crazy. What’s wrong with you?”

“I can’t explain it. It’s like there’s a dozen different me. I saw... someone I recognised through the window a minute ago. And if we take the van, it’ll die. And something will kill me in that diner, in like half a minute. Rae. We can’t stay here, you gotta’ trust me. Things keep changing, I can’t explain it.”

Her hand twitched to her belly, just for a second. “That’s never worked out for me before,” she said.

As they sped away, James caught his own bloodshot eyes in the rear-view mirror for the barest second before tweaking it, setting upon the rapidly diminishing sight of the diner. It was barely noticeable, at first. Tendrils of orange smoke, thinner than a heatwave. They wrapped around the diner like a great serpent, choking it. Other magic was strange like that. Half-sentient. Which also meant it was half-stupid. Like seductive vines, it entwined though the windows and curled around brick, continuing its attack as if he and Rae where still within.

"There are people inside that diner," said James, sweat beading at his brow.

Rae's expression didn't change. "They won't slow the Others down, if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't, but thank you, Rae, I'm sure they'd be appreciative of your endless compassion."

Rae looked pointedly at the increasing speedometer, but did nothing but sigh, giving a small shrug. Despite the ice-cold thoughts racing in his mind, he gripped the steering wheel tighter, and in some incoherent, indescribable way he'd never let himself verbalize, he accepted a part of him would always love her just for that.

"We need help," said Rae, looking at the blur of midnight-stained trees out the passenger window.

"If only for extra fodder between the Others and us," said James in a light, mocking tone.

Rae's smile was tight. "As you say."

They drove half the night, only stopping once for gas and carefully pointing the car back the way the came as they filled. America's most unused roads were desolate and beautiful in the pre-dawn gloom.

It had reached that particular time of morning where the horizon was a washed-out grey, but peeping stars could still make themselves known over the rallying sunrise. He was on the 164 if he was anywhere and it was straight, for miles and miles. For hours, he drove right at the horizon and saw the shadows of Mesas loom over him and then retreat.

And his eyes were closing despite himself. His vision starting to shake and his eyelids blocking out the sky. No coffee, too much magic and hours of silent driving were overcoming him, as tired as if he'd done an honest day's work.

Rae was sleeping, curled up in her chair. She didn't look beautiful or sweet, in an obvious way. Snoring, her open mouth stared out at the road ahead, some drool was spreading over her headrest. And her neck was going to hurt tomorrow.

"Rae," he said. He swatted her on the arm.

"Huh-- Paul?" she asked. "James?"

"Switch with me, bed-head," he said. Who the hell was Paul?

She groaned and scrubbed her face. “Fine. Pull over. At least we'll actually get somewhere if I'm driving."

He flicked on the blinker out of habit as he pulled off to the shoulder. It was so deserted he probably could've come to a complete stop in the middle of the road. "If you knew where we were going, you probably should've told me." His voice came out in a tired croak.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes before she turned to him, holding his gaze. She always did this -- refused to tell him what she was thinking, but always made it clear she was thinking something.

"What?" he snapped.

"James. Am I driving or not? Move."

He blinked, his brain moving sluggishly, then shoved the car door open. He stood on the road for a minute, trying in vain to contort his body in ways that would soothe the aches in his legs and back. He waited for Rae to emerge, until he realized she'd simply crawled into the driver's seat. He sighed and walked around to the passenger's side door.

"I don't trust Julia's fiancé," Rae said abruptly as he sat down.

"Okay..." He frowned. "Well. That's probably normal for a mom, right?"

"No, I mean..." Rae was staring ahead, gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles were turning white. She turned to him. "James. I don't. Trust. Him."

A car appeared on the horizon, barreling down the road in the wrong direction. It began to swerve into the shoulder where James and Rae were parked.

"Let's put a pin in that. Gun?" asked James.

"Nearly a dozen. In the van you left behind."

"Lucy, we got some 'splodin to do."

"If you're having a stroke, it's not ideal," she snapped.

Bartholomew was whining, turning in circles on the back seat, jumping up and down from the footwell. James slammed the stick into reverse and put the pedal to the metal.

The Other's car skidded over gravel and then was back on the road, haring after them, catching quickly.

"Rae!" he shouted, "Do the thing!" He span the wheel hard, flicked the front around, smashed it into Drive. A hit from behind and the crash of metal on metal had them flung against the backs of their seats. Bartholomew was barking. Howling out the back window. "Do the thing Rae! Explode them!"

"I can't do that anymore!" she shouted.

James turned to her, eyes wide.

"I've got something," she said, "Drive straight..." then she was out the car in a flash of blonde hair, clambering through the window onto the roof.

She steadied herself on the roof, a bit like she was riding a surfboard rather than a car barreling at eighty miles an hour. She raised her fingertips to the sky, and took a breath, before she spat something out that was lost to the wind, and the heaven's split open.

James was white-knuckling the wheel but chanced a glance to the rear view mirror, as a mighty bolt of lightning sliced the van in half with a metallic screech. It continued for only moment before the ends fell in on each other and the driver died, the orange left his now dead eyes. Another innocent lost for his greed.
Rae climbed back in through the driver's side windows. He didn't look at her, eyes on the road. He could feel her looking at him, but she said nothing. After a moment, she turned and faced the front. Put her socks back up on the dash like she was in a Tarantino film.

"Wasn't I supposed to be driving?" she said.

He laughed, despite himself. He recognised it for the peace offering it was. "I'm feeling more awake."

She nodded. He looked at her, really looked at her. She had a little ash in her blonde hair, and her blue pencil skirt had been caught on something when she'd climbed out, up on to the roof. A tear traced halfway around her leg. It didn't look slutty, or exciting. Just ruined.

He sighed. "We won't get away, and... what you said changes things."

"Oh?" She looked at him again. "Do tell."

"We need to go the Nexus."

She arched one well-designed eyebrow, "that place? I'd rather take my chance with the claws and fangs of the Others."

"If Gaius was trying to help us, and that's a big if, then we need to go to the big gods and the strong spirits. We can't escape them with a Buick and a few bolts of lightning. We can't save your daughter."

"Politics," she said, "woo."

James paused. Breathed in, breathed out. He drew his power up from that place of ice, felt his tattoos itch. "Nike, Janus, Frigga, Sleipner. I demand what you owe, once again." Sleipner. It was always Sleipner. There was no viler and no more powerful Great Spirit than Odin's horse. Minor gods to spread the debt aside, he was building up credit. Of all of them, one day, Sleipner would come to collect. And Sleipner never lost, never rested. Sleipner was the OG.

There was nothing for a moment, and then a great drop. Weightlessness. As if the car had dropped off a cliff.

The car dropped a few inches onto a plain in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles away from where they were before.

There was nothing around for miles, except the clear visage of a road to cut through the uninterrupted plains. And there just beyond the road, was a herd of horses, dozens of them, with gray coats, and black manes and tails.

"Of fucking course he answered, couldn't have Nike," James grumbled.

"Could be worse, could be Janus, you can never trust anything he says."

"Two faced prick."

Rae hmm'd, as she opened the car door, and leaned against the hood, a moment later James joined her.

"Best if we get walking then," James said.

"I'll stand here," she replied.

"You can't expect a god to approach us, can you?"

"Point," she sighed and they began to walk to the herd.

"We've come to speak with the god, Sleipner," James said in a clear voice that carried over the din of horses and before them the herd began to part, as a massive horse the size of a truck began to walk up to them. So large was it that James standing at a comfortable six feet had to crane his neck back to meet its eyes.

It's nose twitched, as it came to a stop before them, all eight legs steadied "Cease your illusions mortals, and name thyselves before the god."

Rae took a breath and the skin began to slip away from her. Rae's skin took a more caramel color, and her yellow blonde hair became thick and black. Her face lost its heart shape, and became stern and angular.

"Cleopatra, Pharaoh of the Egyptians," she said in an authoritative tone.

"James," he said simply.

"Your real name boy, and do not make me ask again." the Horse said.

He ran a finger over a tattoo on his arm, and his pale skin become more olive in tone, and his long greasy blonde hair became short, curly, and so black it was near purple. Eyes black as coal stared back at the Horse.

"Augustus Caesar, Imperator of Rome."

The Horse glared at him, and James glared back.

"Octavian of the Julii."

Its thick lips pulled back and a rather toothy smile revealed it self, "Better, now, what do you want from the god?."