Once Upon a Reaper

Of His Own Making

The evening closed in on another day, leaving Bobby to settle into his house alone. It had been a long one: there were seemingly never ending requests for "a small problem" here to fix and "this won't take long" there to address. By the time he'd left the shop, he hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. At home, his dinner awaited his making, but he hadn't the interest. Nothing was sparking his interest these days.

He knew the problem. He didn't have anyone of his own. Sure, there were women here and there who could capture his interest for a night, but he didn't have anyone to share his knowledge with, to encourage to grow. Precious had taken the kids to some distant location that she refused to disclose, leaving Bobby with no connection to his children. And he missed them.

Chucking the meat he'd set out to thaw back in the refrigerator, Bobby walked down the hallway and toward the bedroom. There was so much more he knew he could offer. His work with the club was important to him, but it wasn't sustaining him. Not anymore, anyway.

What he missed was the time he'd spend showing the kids how to torque a wrench. He ached for the hugs that they would give him, appearing to truly love without condition. They didn't care that he had been to jail. They didn't worry about the tattoos he had or the rough of his skin. They just loved him and spending time with him. Now, however, that was gone and all he had left was the club.

It just wasn't enough.

Shedding his clothing, he glanced out the window of his bedroom and caught sight of a shooting star. It made him smile as he thought of them. The kids would have told him to make a wish – they still believed that there was magic in the world.

Twisting his lips, he stepped closer to the glass and let his mind wander for a second. He knew that they were better off with Precious far away from the dangers of the club than here in Charming. He didn't begrudge her the fear that had sent her running for all their safety. That didn't make it easier.

"I wish," he began, his words a whisper of a sound. They faded as his eyes turned sadly over the sky. On a huff, he shook his head and continued. "I wish I had someone who would stay," he uttered before he angled back to the bed and fell upon it, letting the world of sleep take away his sadness for a while.

--

"It counts," the small sprite insisted, her chin set in a stubborn tilt.

"It wasn't quick enough," her companion argued, his face showing his disinterest. "Another day, perhaps," he offered when he noted that the smaller female looked ready to blow up.

"No!" she countered. "Not another day. Not another time," she continued. "Now," she demanded, pointing at the slumbering man in a small home in Charming.

"I'm not convinced he's deserving," the male contended, crossing his arms. The female sprite's eyes narrowed as she moved closer.

"That is not your decision," she stated flatly. "The Council already determined that his help was sufficient to ensure one boon," she said.

"He didn't even know who he was helping!" the male disagreed. "It's not like he'd know that it was our payment for his services," he grumbled.

"Exactly!" the female sprite returned. "He didn't know who he was helping, but he did it anyway and saved the life of one of the Elders," she said. "The Council met and concluded it deserved a reward, regardless of your feelings on the matter," she finished. After the male still made no move, she cocked her head.

"Are you refusing to comply with an order from the Council?" she challenged softly, giving the male an opportunity to choose carefully. Refusal to follow orders had dire consequences. The possibilities of what might happen were endless, but none of them were good.

Gulping, the male shook his head and then turned to the sleeping man. He was a silly mortal engaged in a ridiculous fight with other mortals based upon a stupid allegiance. But, the Council had spoken and so this mortal's wish was to be granted. Looking out of the side of his eye, the male smiled slyly as he moved the wand in the air.

The mortal hadn't been specific.

--

As the sunlight etched across the windows of Bobby's house, he began to stir. He'd long ago given up on alarms – when one had been around small children for any length of time, one developed an unfortunate habit of waking early. It was a defense mechanism if nothing else. No one knew what the kids could get into if you didn't get your ass out of bed.

Groaning, he turned onto his back and stretched. He was supposed to have the day off, but he wasn't really inclined to stay home. If he did, he'd just end up doing chores anyway.

It was as he was deciding on whether to go into the club that he heard it. Frowning, he reached into the side table and pulled his gun, cocking it as he stood as quietly as possible. Someone was in the house.

Stepping quickly, he moved down the hallway. The sounds from the kitchen were almost clattering now. Whoever was there, they sure weren't trying to hide their presence. Coming around the corner, Bobby raised his gun and then stared in confusion.

"What the fuck?" he asked, his hand naturally lowering. In response, a teenage version of himself shot a look over a shoulder and then went back to rummaging in the cupboards.

"How?" Bobby asked, his gun now by his side as his younger self moved over to the countertop and began chopping mushrooms.

"Your wish, old man," the boy replied.

"My what?" Bobby asked, touching his forehead with his free hand. He didn't feel sick and he wasn't high. Nevertheless, he was experiencing the most vivid hallucination he'd ever been party to.

"You wanted someone who would stay," the young man replied. "So, here I am," he stated, extending both arms.

"You can't be serious," Bobby countered. As he was about to call someone – anyone – who could confirm what his eyes were telling him, a sparkle appeared. Bobby stopped and watched, dumbfounded, as the sparkle grew larger and then formed into a small female.

"Maybe, I can help?" the beautiful woman said. Younger Bobby shrugged his shoulders and went back to cutting mushrooms for the omelets he was making.

"Who the fuck are you?" Bobby asked, his voice raising. This was surreal.

"That is not important," the woman replied. "What is important is that you've been given a boon because of your kindness," she explained.

"Uh," Bobby started, his frown deepening as he glanced between the woman and the teen who was making his favorite breakfast meal.

"It's like this," the teen said, turning to him for a moment before spreading the mushrooms into the eggs in the pan. "You wanted someone who would stay," he reminded Bobby. "Well, the only one who they could guarantee would do that was, well, you," the kid continued.

"So, I'm the version of you that had already decided to ride with the Sons," he explained.

"He hasn't proven himself to the club yet and he still has much to learn," the woman noted. "You will be responsible for helping him," she stated. "But, assuming you treat him well, he will always be with you, as he is a reflection of you," she concluded.

Before Bobby could say any more, the woman began to shrink into a sparkle again and fade. Setting his gun on the counter, the older man breathed deeply and looked around. Could this be true?

"It is true," he heard the woman say, though he could not see her. "But please understand, Bobby, you have to be good to yourself – young and old – for you to be able to keep this boon. You have been gifted your wish, but only on condition that you do your best by the boy. If we learn it is otherwise, you will lose what you have been granted."

The sound of her voice faded then, leaving Bobby and his younger self in the quiet of the kitchen. After a second, Bobby tilted his head and smiled. The teen groaned, knowing what was coming.

"You can't call me that," the teen argued. Bobby shrugged and chuckled, bumping shoulders with the teen.

"Can't call you Bobby," he noted. "It'd be too confusing."

"But, Robert?" the teen asked. Bobby grinned. "Don't worry, kid. If all goes well, we'll get you a kickass road name."