Defining Factors

Chapter 16: The Gods of Egypt

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HE NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION

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Warnings: None

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"No, James, wait, please-"

James didn't give Francis the chance to finish. He'd beg for James to stay and James was afraid that he actually might. But it wasn't safe for him anymore, even if he actually began to feel like he belonged somewhere.

His feet connected this the polished hardwood floor. How'd he know? Because he was staring at his feet. James pulled his hands from his pockets and walked the hallways by memory. Home.

It was mostly plain, at least his room was. Gray walls, dark furniture. Simple. He didn't need much more than that. The living room was much more welcoming, he could thank his roommate for that. A roommate that wasn't home currently. James flopped down on his bed, it could be hours or seconds before he came home anyway. Once he did, James would leave. Never have to worry about being hunted.

James must've fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, his room was pitch black, signifying the fall of nighttime. A warm light softly floated into his room for the hallway and there was a distinct smell of cooking food. Food sounded absolutely delightful. James pushed himself up from his bed, coughing heavily suddenly and curling up slightly as a result.

"James?" a voice floated down the hallway. "Are you home?"

James cleared his throat and searched around for his remote, he was sure he had left it on the end table. James pulled open a draw and located, but by the time he found it, his roommate knocked softly on his open door. "I didn't realize you were home," he said. "Hungry? I made food. There should be plenty for you too."

James tapped the screen of the device but it didn't respond. Right, touch screens and fleshless hands didn't mix. He tossed it to the side and sighed in exasperation, leaning overturning on his nightstand light. His roommate chuckled slightly and let himself into the room, opening up a drawer and retrieving a pair of gloves for James. All of his gloves had those touch screen compatible fingertips for a reason after all. He walked over and handed them over and James took them gratefully. "Man, you look awful. What the hell happened?"

James did look awful. First of all, he started coughing again, the ends of his jacket sleeves were scorched, parts of his clothes were torn. He was absolutely drenched and he probably looked dreadfully pale. James scooped up the device in his hands again and quickly turned it on, it connected to their house system and he flopped back down on the bed.

"I may have blown my cover and got jumped by everyone," the device responded for him after a moment of warming up. Gotta love future tech. He should really get a portable one. James coughed again. "Oh, and also may have been three seconds from being drowned and my lungs didn't like that."

"Well, get changed into something dry and we can talk about it over dinner if you want," his roommate replied.

"Thanks, Hercules."

"No problem dude. You've saved my ass enough times, this is nothing." Mulligan walked back out of the room and James rolled off the bed and pulled open his dresser, grabbing things at random. They were all practically the same thing so it didn't really matter.

After a quick trip into the bathroom to get cleaned up a bit, a few coughing fits, and dry clothes later, James emerged into the living room, finding a meal set out for him on the table already and Mulligan sprawled out on the couch, already eating his. James tossed the device onto the table and scooped up the plate, curling into a chair.