Do Not Disturb [Silas/Open]

[Edward Johns]

The days were long and the nights were even longer. Really it was nothing new to Edward Johns but for once in his life the stress of owning and running the Hog’s Head was actually starting to show. Working long hours combined with watching over Cassie, Vivian and even Lenora was becoming more and more of a task after the incident at the Shack. The fight with the vampire and what might of, what could of happened had also started to hit home with Ed. If he hadn’t of been there, if he hadn’t of been so lucky with the sword then it might not just have been Dacian who had been killed.

The man frowned as he worked, glancing out the window at the orange light of the setting sun. Only countless hours more of work to do before he could sleep again for about 4 hours. He sighed and served another round of thirsty customers. Once they had gone and there was no apparent sign of anyone else wanting a drink Ed took advantage of the free moment. He lowered himself to the ground, leaning against the back wall of behind the bar, his knees brought up to his chest and his head resting on top of them and his hands. Above him on the wall was Dacian’s sword, still stained with the hostile vampire’s blood. Ed glanced at it and flashed back to the night.

He’d been the hero but still he felt bad. Bad for Cassie that she’d lost Dacian more than anything. Even though he hated to admit it Cassie had felt for the vampire and now she kept blaming herself for his death. The more he thought about it the more the man lost focus on his surroundings. He was drifting off the sleep on the floor behind the bar. It wasn’t long until he was completely asleep, although it was only a light doze. The noise of the bar could still be heard and it influenced his dreams. They were strange and dark with things lurking in shadows but there was so much noise.

[Silas Rosier]

M’kay, yes. The Hogs Head was technically closed by this hour, but really, when had little details like that ever stopped Silas before? Besides, with what he wanted to discuss, the less people around to overhear him the better. A cursory glance at the clock on the wall told him that Ed should almost be finished cleaning up for the night, so Silas again went through his usual pack-up routine of sealing his office against intruders before Apparating out.

He didn’t appear outside the Hogs Head this time, instead teleporting silently right in the middle of the tavern just like before. The nights were getting a little bit too cold now to even try subjecting himself to the weather, and besides, not appearing right into buildings was only a matter of courtesy and since when had Silas ever given Ed any of that?

The lights of the pub were still on but Ed was nowhere to be seen. He was probably upstairs fetching something then. Silas drew his wand and started absently twirling it as he made his way to the stairs to glance up to see if Ed was visible. Nope, no one. He didn’t go up if only because he didn’t feel like running into any of Ed’s roommates, especially since two were vampires and one was Cassie. The man would have to come down sooner or later to turn the lights off and Silas was happy to abuse the lack of surveillance over the bar in the meantime.

Speaking of the bar, when Silas turned to look at it he stopped fiddling with his wand for a moment and almost did a double take. There was one big, glaring new addition to the decor: a bright sword covered in blood mounted on the back of the bar. It took him a second to recognise it as the one belonging to Dacian. What the? How had Ed gotten his hands on that little trophy? The blood was dark, coagulated and very dead looking despite already being dried out. Vampire blood. Had to be. Ed wasn’t the type to mount anything human up like that. Of course, Ed had apparently not the grasped the concept of blood + metal = rust, but well, there was probably a charm for that.

Hmm. Right. Booze. Ed probably owed him an outrageous number of freebies anyway for getting rid of the Dacian problem and giving him the opportunity to play hero to his little girlfriend. Silas started making his way to cross behind the bar when a head of dark hair on the floor caught his attention. What the? As he got closer Silas quickly realised it was Ed, who appeared to be fast asleep. He wasn’t dead at any rate, his chest was still moving. The man looked exhausted. He was easily a few shades paler, the bags under his eyes were more pronounced, and even asleep he had a harried, overworked sort of look to him.

Oh come on, the incident at the shack hadn’t been that exciting.

Silas sighed in an irritated fashion, then walked over and jabbed Ed rather sharply in the stomach with his toe to force him awake. There were better places to sleep than the fucking floor, and besides, he needed to talk to him.

“You. Up.”

[Edward Johns]

The snow was blinding and so cold, especially on his ass and upper back which was strange. All around the man the wind howled while the dark shape of the Shrieking Shack loomed up ahead. Silas’ voice hurried him on over the wind but he was nowhere to be seen. It called to him telling him that Cassie was in danger again. Confusion addled Edward’s brain, she’d only just been rescued from here, how the hell was the girl in trouble again? What had taken her this time? Had she found herself tangled up with a werewolf this time?

In the flurry of white and dark Ed could see shapes, monsters hiding in the corners of his vision. That and the increasing cold made the man shiver violently. Still hearing Silas he looked ahead but the shack seemed further than ever. He wasn’t going to make it in time. He collapsed into the snow, the shack simultaneously fading into the snow. He’d failed; Cassie would be killed this time all because he was lost in the snow. All he wanted to do was lie down and let the elements claim him but still there was Silas’ voice.

”You. Up.”

That was no dream, and the sharp pain in his stomach wasn’t either. ”Oh just fuck off Rosier!” half-asleep he practically yelled, grabbing Silas’ foot and shoving it hard in the opposite direction. Being woken up was one thing but to be woken up by the man you loathed was completely unappreciated. Bleary-eyed and sore Ed picked himself up, not caring what or, especially, who he careered into. The man yawned and stretched out the muscles that needed stretching while he tried to remember what he had dreamt about. It had been confusing and had given him a headache but that’s all he could remember. He needed a drink.

Ignoring Silas for the moment Ed moved to his own personal bottle of straight muggle whiskey hidden on one of the bar’s shelves and took a generous swig out of the bottle. The amber liquid burned as it made its way down his oesophagus, a sensation the man savoured. Once the first round had settled he downed another, this time somehow fitting almost half the remaining contents of the bottle in his mouth. As soon as he was satisfied that enough had been drunk that was when he turned back to face Silas, a look of pure doom upon his face. Ed was not happy to see his guest at all, even though he owed Cassie’s life and his life if you counted the dream to the older man.

”First thing’s first, get the fuck out from behind my bar,” Edward practically snarled as he threw Silas a particularly fierce glare. He rubbed his face with one of his hands, the whiskey had helped the headache but it was still there throbbing away in the background, some Panadol he’d smuggled in from Australia would have to be taken later. ”Now, what do you want Silas? Why are you here? If you’re here to torment me I’m really not in the mood. I heard your late night barman is a good one to taunt, go bother him,” Ed snapped, busying himself by cleaning the bar’s surface. If Silas was here to talk about last night he hoped his body language would give the other man a hint that he wasn’t interested in talking about it at all.

[Silas Rosier]

”Oh just fuck off Rosier!”

Silas laughed, moving his foot out of the way of Ed’s clutches. Couldn’t have the barmans dirty fingers sullying the leather after all. “Ordinarily I’d love to,” he replied matter-of-factly, “but I’m here for a reason this time.”

Ed, apparently, wasn’t even listening. He seemed to be doing a rather accurate impression of him by ferreting around the bottles for something personal. Silas couldn’t honestly say he’d ever seen Ed search out a drink that desperately before. Then again, he’d never found Ed sleeping behind the bar either. The sight of Ed swallowing half the bottle as though trying to beat Silas’s personal time record was what finally tipped him off that everything was apparently less than okay. Silas frowned, but it wasn’t because he particularly gave a shit if Ed was alright or not: he was busy doing the maths on the implications of what he was seeing.

Being generous, he could probably guess Ed’s weight at being approximately 90 kilograms. He also was by no means a heavy drinker, and dinner had been long enough ago that it was safe to assume Ed was running on an empty stomach. By the looks of it he’d grabbed a standard whiskey bottle, so that put the volume at about 75cl. With a measure being about 25ml, that gave about 30 shots, and Ed had just swallowed half in one fucking blow. That was enough to send Ed’s blood alcohol content spiralling into the .40’s in just a few minutes, the symptoms of which usually included unconsciousness and death in all but dedicated alcoholics.

... Okay, so Ed was trying to commit suicide. That was new.

”First thing’s first, get the fuck out from behind my bar!”

”No.” Oh come on, Ed’s sudden onset of Alcohol Abuse notwithstanding, if anything was going to make Silas determined not to move, yeah, that would pretty much do it. His wand was still in his hand and Silas found himself defensively raising it an inch or so to prove his point. Ordinarily an angry Ed wouldn’t even merit a twitch of the lip from him, but you know, ever since Edward had gone and shot him in the shoulder Silas was a little bit more inclined now to take him seriously when he looked pissed off, especially when he was about to get very drunk very quickly and people weren’t known for logical thinking when they could barely see straight.

Although, perhaps he was feeling a little bit too hopeful at the moment that Ed would try and start something, for a variety of reasons, sheer boredom being one of them.

Most of what Ed said next went in one ear and out the other, although it seemed he was asking the stock-standard ‘why are you here?’, which was remarkably casual considering the circumstances. Jesus, was the fucking idiot really that oblivious as to what he’d just done or was he hoping that Silas wouldn’t notice? If that was the case he had highly underestimated the knowledge of someone who had been making alcohol a staple part of their diet for about 24 years and counting. However Ed’s behaviour wasn’t exactly indicative of one trying to commit suicide, despite Silas’s first impression. The bastard had too much to live for yet (Silas was working on that), and people tended to be a little more careful with their deaths than ‘A guest just woke me up, I’m going to literally go die now.’

Anyway, there was one way to find out.

“Well, I came here for information originally, but that’s going to be a fucking problem when you’re going to be unconscious and possibly dead in about 30 minutes, and that’s being generous,” Silas replied, his voice deadpan with a hint of sarcasm. “Unless you know a sobering charm, if you got a suicide note penned, now’s the time to reveal it, or if you hurry upstairs you might be able to write a few lines before you lose your ability to hold a quill. Tell me, do you have any fucking idea how much you just drank, or were you asleep when they covered this in your Bartending Course?”

[Edward Johns]

So he was here for a reason, a reason Ed had a feeling he knew and that compelled him to practically flee from Silas but not before he swore at the older man rather loudly for still being behind the bar. If Ed had been a slight more dull man he would have manhandled the strip club owner out before he busied himself with cleaning tables but as it were the Australian was smarter than he should have been through his increasing drunken haze. ”I’m fine apart from the fact that my girlfriend’s in love with a dead vampire and now you’re here behind my bar, thanks for asking. Now what would you like Silas?” he slurred bitterly more to himself than to Silas. From his spot on the other side of the room he blinked incredulously at the older man before swaying from side to side momentarily.

Why had he just said that? Oh that’s right he was slightly drunk and- hang on. What was that about information? ”Information? What information could you possibly me from want, I mean want from me?” Ed asked, confused. He fumbled for his wand, forgetting where on his person he’d put it. Eventually he found it tucked in the back of his jeans, something his mother had always told him not to do but what did she know? His sobriety was proving to be an issue when he tried to cast a sobering charm. The first try, instead of having the wand pointed at himself it had been aimed in Silas’ direction and instead of sobering it had turned the older man’s clothing a particular violent shade of electric blue. ”Oops sorry, wrong spell wrong person,” Ed chuckled, a snide smirk spread across his face.

It took a few more goes but finally the bartender managed to sober himself up. It was like a blanket had been lifted off of him as the warmth and fog of the alcohol was lifted. ”I can drink whatever and however much I fucking like, I didn’t realise you were the only one who was allowed to,” the younger man quipped sharply before giggling again at the colour of Silas’ clothes. Oh boy did he have some retribution headed his way. Abandoning the tables Ed stalked to a small radio sat in one of the corners of the room and turned it on. The station it was tuned to filled the pub with a song that sounded distinctly like it was from the 1940’s.

[Silas Rosier]

Somehow Silas didn’t actually remember once asking Edward how he was. When did he ever? Despite that, the barman seemed intent on sarcastically bringing up his problems, which, really, weren’t that friggin’ important to start with. His girlfriend loved someone else. Tough. Get a new one. “Ed, what the hell makes you think I want to hear about your love-life?” he grumbled somewhat incredulously.

Aaaand, then the man was bitching again, apparently also unable to string a sentence together. Ergh, definitely too much booze too quickly. It was times like this Silas hated how fast alcohol could absorb. He was about to reply when he caught sight of Ed making a move for his wand. What the fuck did he think he was going to do with that when he looked like he couldn’t even find his pocket? Hang on...

... Oh you have GOT to be joking.

”Oops sorry, wrong spell wrong person,” Ed chuckled.

“Ed, you can’t even cast spells properly when you’re sober, I wouldn’t expect you to start now,” Silas growled, lifting his right hand to get a better look at the rather blinding new shade of blue his sleeve had decided to take. “How in the hell of it do you even mix sobering and colour changing charms up? That’s like casting ‘Piertotum Locomotor’ instead of ‘Crucio’, which, by the way, you are about one step from if you don’t sit down and shut up.”

While Ed grumbled about again and stalked across the room, Silas returned his clothing to its original navy colour. A second later the sound of the radio hit his ears, and with that, Silas’s patience apparently gave out. “Actually...” A spell shot past Edward’s ear and crashed into the radio like a bullet, knocking it back and silencing it completely. One of the chairs then skidded sharply in Edward’s direction, hitting him hard in the back of his knees and forcing him to collapse into it before manoeuvring to face the barman in Silas’s direction. “Seeing as you seem incapable of doing it yourself and all.” For good measure, he hit Ed square in the chest with another sobering charm.

“Now, I’ll try being nicer if you try being a bit more helpful, or I’ll settle for smarter. Really, this doesn’t need to be painful. I know thinking isn’t your strong point but try and give it a shot, will you?” he snarled. “What the hell did you get up to last night at the shack?”

[Edward Johns]

The only acknowledgement Silas’ advice and chastisement got were mumbled and muffled swear words accompanied with a shrug of the shoulders. With his back turned to the older man all Edward could think was why the hell Silas talked so much. Blah blah blah, who died and made him king of the fucking universe? The question didn’t matter; he still obviously thought he owned the place. Wandering in behind a bar that wasn’t even his, telling the man who owned the place what and what not to do and Ed was pretty sure Silas had stolen alcohol too. There would have to be a step up in his lax security by the looks of things, maybe some anti-Silas charms too. He’d have to ask Adrian Connery about those next time the Defence professor came in for a drink.

Just when Ed decided to turn around and face the other man a crack rang out before the cheerful song that had been playing faltered and died. ”What the fuck? My radio!” the younger man moaned but he didn’t really have a chance to complain before he was collected by an enchanted chair. Well he couldn’t get away now, Silas wanted to have a heart to heart and there was nothing he could do about it. Ed flinched as Silas aimed his wand at him and frowned when he felt the familiar sobering charm wash over him. ”I was already sober you asshat,” he spat, his glare suitably withering, or so he thought. It was disappointing to see that Silas was no longer electric blue and Ed couldn’t resist quipping, ”What a shame, that blue suited you.”

”Wouldn’t you like to know what I got up to at that shack,” one more snide joke before he complied with what Silas wanted. Ed wasn’t totally stupid, he knew Mr. Rosier’s patience was limited and after that threshold had been passed fingers started breaking. ”I was saving the day, thanks for the help with that by the way,” he said seriously, gesturing to the sword behind the bar, ” I guess you were too busy standing on the sidelines watching to really help. What? Where you afraid you were going to ruin your designer robes?”

[Silas Rosier]

”What a shame, that blue suited you.”

“And lime green would really bring out your eyes. Ask nicely and I’ll even make it permanent,” Silas replied sardonically, his patience waning.

Finally, Edward eventually seemed to get the hint he was treading a thin line and began giving him the information he was after. Sort of. The man was still trying to be a smartass about it, but, coming from Ed, Silas hadn’t really expected much else. Good God, the man was such a pain.

Unsurprisingly, Edward started parroting the letter from Adrian he had received earlier. Hardly word for word, but the accusation was the same. Silas was starting to feel irritated by the number of people who were assuming he had done nothing throughout the whole affair. “Of course Edward, because you had such a fantastically clear view of things from down in the basement,” he retorted. “Here, let me fill you in on what you missed: When you went downstairs to have a little heart to heart with your girlfriend, Cain and Dacian stopped fighting and invited me to play Parcheesi until you were ready to be the hero and save the day,” he continued with a glare. “Idiot.”

“Fine, I’ll make it easy for you. Finish this story for me: ‘Silas Apparated me to the Shrieking Shack. I somehow managed to avoid shitting in my pants and fell down the basement stairs. When I looked around, I found...?’ ”

[Edward Johns]

The more Silas talked the more Edward wanted to hit him. To wipe that smug, arrogant look off of the older man’s face would be like Ed’s Christmas and birthday all rolled into one. The painful consequences were starting to look like they’d be worth it in the young man’s mind just for some payback for all the berating and taunting he’d been subjected to by Silas. Outwardly Ed rolled his eyes and pretended to snore as Silas rolled off his sarcastic story.

”Save the sarcasm for someone who gives a shit Rosier. In the basement I found... a ‘heart to heart’ as you so eloquently put it. What the fuck do you think I found? I found Cassie huddled in one corner with her hands bleeding from being tortured. Your powers of deduction must suck if you couldn’t figure that out on your own. I also found Dacian’s sword which, by the way, you’re not having and I’ve already put on the necessary charms to stop you having it so don’t even bother trying to take it,” Ed snarled, a look of pure hatred on his face.

Anger coursed through him with every beat of his heart. Being forced to answer questions of no conceivable importance in his own home. Was Silas trying to cover his ass? If so, why? What had he done that was making him ask Ed questions? ”Look, I didn’t see anything aside from the basement and the nutso vampire. Whatever you’re making sure I didn’t see, I’m pretty sure I didn’t see ok? Now get the fuck out or I’ll shoot you again, or have you booked for theft,” the younger man snapped, motioning to the door then the bottles of booze behind the bar. He knew about Silas taking alcohol whenever he wanted and was becoming more and more tempted to report the strip club owner to the authorities.

[Silas Rosier]

”I found Cassie huddled in-“

Silas rolled his eyes. Good God the man was thicker than a row of cinderblocks. “No shit you found Cassie, smartarse” he interrupted, talking right over Edward. “I’m the one who told you she was there, remember? What happened after that?”

Ed apparently hadn’t listened to him and was still ratting off on something. The sword? Silas’s kept his gaze fixed on the bartenders face. There was something about the vehemence in his voice that was mildly intriguing. “Oh, relax Edward. I’m not here to steal your toys. If I wanted it, I would have taken it already,” he replied matter-of-factly. “If the Ministry or some angry vampire coven comes knocking around, I’ll be much happier knowing you have the murder weapon.

“Also, hate to break it to you, but according to Freud your obsession with possessing Dacian’s sword means you secretly covet his penis,” Silas continued, his expression completely straight faced. “And no wonder, you’re the weaker male. Dacian won. He needed to die for Cassie to even start considering you as a potential mate again. So, hey if having his ‘sword’ makes you feel better, by all means, hold onto it.”

When Edward threatened to shoot him again it took what little there was left of Silas’s self restraint not to smirk. Ah yes, the shotgun. He let that topic drop for now. If he remembered correctly, the thing was still jinxed to backfire next time Edward decided to shoot him with it. Silas wasn’t sure what a load of rock salt did to the face when fired at point blank range, but Edward was going to find out sooner or later.

“And you can relax on that last point, Ed. If I thought you’d had seen anything you weren’t supposed to you wouldn’t have gotten out of the shack in one piece. Really, all I want to know is what happened and this is your fault for turning it into an interrogation,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the bar.