Zyan
"We should ask your mother how she always manages to track us down," Zyan said as they approached the City Mall.
"I doubt she'd tell us," Carter replied. There was a bounce in his step, a childish giddiness on his face that he was clearly trying, but failing, to hide. It made Zyan wish they could see Jaslene more often, but she was a busy woman and never stayed in one place for long.
"Do you think we should've brought her something?" Zyan asked.
Carter waved the concern aside. "Nah."
"What about the dinner reservations?"
"Already placed two weeks ago when you first brought it up."
Zyan nodded slowly. "Good."
Carter nudged Zyan to get his attention and nodded toward the fountain in the center of the mall. "Come on, let's sit. We're early, so it might be a while before she shows up."
Zyan followed him to the nearby bench and sat on the edge. His leg was jiggling—a nervous tic he thought he'd have gotten rid of by now.
"What's with you today?" Carter asked.
"I don't know." Zyan wrung his hands. "I'm just nervous, I guess. I haven't seen her since we got divorced."
Carter reached out to still Zyan's fiddling. "Hey, it's okay. We've gotten divorced before, and she's never judged you for it."
Zyan pressed his lips together. "It feels different this time."
Carter shook his head. "It's not. We were being stupid, just like every other time. She'll just be happy we got our heads out of our asses before nuclear war could blow us up."
Zyan huffed a laugh, but when he looked over at Carter, he found his brows furrowed. "What is it?"
"Are those glasses new? I don't think I've ever seen them on you."
Zyan automatically reached up to adjust them before dropping his hand. "Oh, yeah. Carol's dumb husband sat on mine and broke them."
"I thought you liked Nate."
"Not when he's sitting on my glasses."
Carter smiled and reached up to push Zyan's bangs out of his face. "Well, I like these better than your old ones."
Zyan felt warm at the gesture. "And why's that?"
"Brown frames went out of style twenty years ago."
Before Zyan could give a snarky remark, a familiar voice interrupted them. "Hello, Dakila."
Carter cringed at the name. Zyan knew it wasn't his birth name, but it seemed to be the one that had stuck most with his mother. She'd been calling Carter by it ever since she'd picked it out for him a couple of centuries ago.
"Mom," Carter whined. "Stop calling me that already."
Zyan bit back a grin.
Carter's mother ignored the comment and turned to Zyan. "And Zyan. It's good to see you. You look healthy."
The warm tone caught Zyan off-guard. "Jaslene," he got out. "It's so good to see you too The, uh, haircut suits you."
Jaslene smiled. "Thank you."
Carter had gotten to his feet while she'd been greeting Zyan, and now pulled Jaslene into a hug. "So, why did you invite us here?" he asked, once he'd pulled back.
"Can't I just request to meet my son and his…husband every couple of decades without needing to have a motive?"
Carter quirked an eyebrow at her.
"We're currently not married," Zyan informed her.
"That's unfortunate," Jaslene said. "Do send me an invite when you get around it, though. But for now—" She handed Carter a dark blue paper bag she'd been carrying. "Here's a small souvenir from Germany. You two can unpack it later."
Carter glanced up from the paper snarls stuffed into the bag. "Is this what you came here for?"
"No."
Zyan frowned. "So what is it?"
"I feel it's time. The Diwata saved us and deserves our ongoing appreciation, yet we haven't shown our gratitude in too long."
Carter glanced over at Zyan, who gave a small nod. He looked back at his mother. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," he agreed. "When do you wanna leave?"
Jaslene held up a couple of plane tickets, pulled from seemingly nowhere, and handed them off to Carter. Carter accepted them, but only spared them a fleeting glance before he passed them on to Zyan.
"Our flight leaves on Saturday," Jaslene told them. "I expect you to be there five hours early. Pack for a month-long stay."
"A month?" Carter exclaimed. "I have a job. I have meetings."
Jaslene shot him a look. "Oh please. We both know that label of yours will be able to handle you leaving the country for a few weeks. This is the being you owe your life to. Don't you think she deserves your appreciation, after so much time has passed?"
"She's got a point, Carter," Zyan said gently. "You've held FaceTime meetings before."
Carter bit on his lower lip and lowered his eyes. He sighed. "Fine. I'll reschedule what I can and help Tiffany figure out the rest."
Jaslene gave a satisfied nod. "Perfect. Now that's settled, who else is hungry?"
"We have a reservation for 7 p.m.," Zyan told her.
"Lovely. Where?"
Zyan glanced at Carter, whose head snapped up when he realized he'd been caught digging through the gift bag. "Uh…"
"Our reservations?" Zyan prompted.
"Oh, yeah. There's this place down the road, across the street from that skyscraper construction site."
Zyan frowned. "Didn't they shut down last year?"
"Yeah, but another restaurant moved in. My new producer recommended it to me."
"Why did the other one shut down?" Jaslene asked.
"It was a front for a drug cartel."
Zyan rubbed his forehead. "Great. Let's go."
"Do they have vegetarian options?" Jaslene asked as they got moving.
"I think so," Carter replied.
*~*~*
It felt like he'd only blinked, and now, there he was at the airport, ready to board the plane. Carter was by his side, prepared for a long nap in soft sweatpants and a washed-out hoodie, where Zyan expected something more along the lines of cramping legs and backaches.
Jaslene had already taken an earlier flight to get everything settled with the landlord of the house she'd insisted they rent for the duration of their stay. They'd see her again at their destination, where she promised she'd pick them up from the airport.
"I hate planes," Zyan grumbled as the person in front of him let out another cough. It didn't sound like a regular cold, more like the first symptom of an impending Zombie virus outbreak.
"Just take off your shoes and take a nap," Carter responded. He'd already pulled up his hood and looked ready for a seventeen-hour sleep cycle.
"We both know that's not going to happen."
"Then watch a movie."
The other passenger coughed again before Zyan could reply.
"How can you sleep when that person could be puking out an alien any second?" Zyan hissed.
"We're not gonna end up like the passengers in the first episode of Fringe," Carter muttered. "Just relax."
Zyan pulled up his t-shirt to cover his nose and mouth and settled in for a long flight.
*~*~*
Fortunately, Zyan survived all the way to their destination, albeit disgruntled and on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. Carter, on the other hand, was as chipper as ever after his twelve-hour nap, though Jaslene's smile rivaled his when she set sight on them.
"Hey, boys! Did you have a good trip?"
"Yes."
"No."
Her brows jumped up. "Well…I'm sure you'll feel better once you get settled in, Zyan."
Zyan only nodded and followed Jaslene to her rental car, where he heaved his luggage into the trunk before he collapsed on the backseat. He fell asleep before they even left the parking garage.
*~*~*
The next morning made him wish he'd nagged Carter more persistently to stay awake throughout the flight.
It was 5:30 when Zyan shot up in bed at the loud thump and string of curses right at the foot of their bed. "What the—"
"Sorry, Zyan. Go back to sleep."
"What're you doing?"
"I forgot there was a trunk at the foot of the bed."
Zyan groaned and fell back into the pillows. He closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but Carter wasn't exactly quiet as he clattered around in the kitchen. Once a full hour rolled around and sleep still hadn't claimed him, Zyan admitted defeat and went off to join Carter for breakfast.
It was late in the afternoon when Jaslene approached them about leaving to seek out the Diwata's domain. No one argued to postpone their trip.
With their three light backpacks loaded into the trunk of Jaslene's rental, they took off. At first, Zyan didn't recognize anything from their past visits, since they'd never stayed in that town before, but as the drive went on, he felt it again.
A feeling. Something he sensed but couldn't describe or put his finger on. And as their drive went on, it settled into his chest. A tugging, a pull, an urge to get there faster. Their destination was growing near.
"You feel it too, right?" Carter's voice was low next to him.
Zyan could only nod.
"Do you think she's gonna be mad?"
Zyan shook his head. "I think we'd feel it if she were."
"I hope so. I've heard brutal things about Diwata's fighting skills."
"Thank you, Carter. I'm glad you told me before we got there."
Their drive ended at the outskirts of a small town still so achingly familiar. All his doubts and worries disappeared as he was overcome with peace. There was no place in the world he'd visited more often than those nearby woods. They grabbed their backpacks and took out their offerings, their show of gratitude, as they silently entered the Diwata's domain.
Zyan's skin tingled, and it made him shiver, as he felt her presence grow stronger with every step. They didn't stop until they caught sight of the first lambana. There, they crouched down to unravel their offerings on large, patterned cloth napkins.
The food and jewelry lay untouched for several minutes, even after they'd stepped back, but more lambana had gathered between the nearby trees. The balete tree, the very same who'd the Diwata had originally resided in, still stood proud at the edge of the woods, though it was now more secluded and surrounded by a park, to be admired by locals and tourists alike. It was those circumstances that pushed Jaslene, Carter, and Zyan to meet the Diwata further off, where they couldn't be interrupted and questioned by strangers.
Zyan had been focused on their offerings when he felt the sudden intense urge to look up. He obeyed his instincts, and there she was. She was as pale as Zyan remembered, and her skin just as smooth and beauty just as outlandish. Her appearance left no doubt about her inhuman nature.
Zyan bowed his head when she came nearer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jaslene and Carter do the same.
"We've returned to you, dear spirit," Jaslene said.
Zyan glanced up to find the Diwata watching her. It was the only sign she was listening. Through all their visits, Zyan had never heard the spirit speak. He didn't even know if she could.
"Please take these offerings as a token of our appreciation," Jaslene continued. "Your gift of life will never be taken for granted."
"We apologize for the years passed without a visit," Carter said. "There's been a lot going, and we've…lost sight of our priorities."
Zyan tried to hide his second-hand embarrassment at Carter's fumbling. "I hope you accept our humble apologies and offerings. We promise to honor your gift and return each year to prove our gratitude."
The Diwata's gaze dropped to settle on their offerings. Her head inclined slightly as she stepped forward, until her smooth, pale toes nearly brushed the cloth of Carter's unfolded bundle.
Zyan gulped. He felt nervous, though he still sensed no malice. The spirit seemed at peace, as it had during each of their visits.
"Look," Carter whispered.
Zyan looked up to follow his gaze. There, between the trees to their right, the lambanas seemed to have grown more energetic. They zapped through the air, some of them more daring than others as they came closer.
The corner of Zyan's mouth tugged up as he watched them. He had memories of them whizzing past his head, close enough to brush his hair, or even bumping straight into him. Now they seemed just as eager to come closer and inspect the newcomers, yet they hadn't.
A movement in his periphery caught Zyan's attention and made him look over, only to see the Diwata perk up, as if she were sensing something. Her back was straight where she stood, and after a moment, she turned and barely noticeably inclined her chin in the direction she'd come from. Without further prompting, half the lambanas darted off and disappeared into the appointed direction.
"We can see you're busy," Jaslene spoke up. "And we don't want to keep you. If we may, we'd like to return next week with further offerings."
The Diwata dipped her head in a nod so small that Zyan would've missed it if he'd blinked.
"Thank you," Jaslene said. She bowed her head and backed away three, four steps.
Zyan and Carter were quick to follow. The Diwata didn't move until they were out of sight.
*~*~*
"What are we gonna do before our next visit?" Carter asked on their drive back.
"Whatever we want," Jaslene replied.
"Did either of you notice that the lambanas were acting strange?" Zyan spoke up.
"What do you mean?" Carter asked.
"They seemed more…reserved."
"Times are changing, and they sense it," Jaslene said. "Humans are slowly killing this planet, their home, and they can sense it."
"Oh." Zyan didn't know what else to say.
*~*~*
They spent their free time exploring the neighboring cities and towns. Each evening, they'd try out another restaurant, and each morning, they'd plan another trip over breakfast. They spent every Sunday visiting the Diwata, bearing new offerings and giving their thanks, until they sensed it was time to leave. None of their visits lasted longer than a few minutes. After all, what was there to say to a being who'd spent the last centuries watching their home die at the hands of the creatures it was nourishing and giving shelter to?
When it was time to pack and head to the airport, Zyan wasn't sure how to feel. Part of him missed Ava and Jessica and the comfort of his own home, but another longed to stay and lose himself in the life he could have here. Over the last month, he'd felt more like his old self than he had in decades. Carter and he had found a balance outside the bustle of the city and their jobs; Zyan wasn't sure he could bear to lose that.
They said their goodbyes to Jaslene when she dropped them off at the airport. She left with the promise to send them a card once she'd touched ground in Finland.
Zyan felt bittersweet when he dropped onto one of the hard, plastic chairs in the waiting area and found Carter already on his phone before he'd even sat down.
"Jessica's asking what we'd like for dinner," he informed Zyan.
"Twelve hours of sleep," Zyan replied.
"Well, I was thinking fried rice from the Vietnamese place, but I guess we can have your thing."
Zyan only dropped his head on Carter's shoulder to watch the phone screen. "I don't get why you always need to put a smiley at the end of every text."
"Jessica always thinks I'm mad at her when I don't."
"I don't understand these youngsters sometimes."
Carter chuckled. "Honestly? Me, neither."
They boarded their plane almost four hours later, at which point, Zyan's back felt so stiff, he feared he'd tear a muscle if he dared to stretch. Luckily, his fear proved unjustified, which he found out thanks to the child sat in the row behind them, who kept kicking Zyan's backrest until it passed out cold halfway through the flight.
By the time they returned home and climbed the stairs to their apartment, Zyan didn't even mind it too much when he saw all the people gathered in his living room. Uninvited. As always. Part of him wondered if they'd been there the entire month he'd been gone.
"How were the Philippines?" Ava asked from her spot on his couch. She gave them a once-over, taking in the rumpled state of their clothes and tired faces.
"I just survived seventeen hours on a plane with a whiny brat kicking my seat, not to mention the overcrowded baggage claim area and the cab ride home," Zyan ranted. "Can we please do this some other time, when I'm not on the brink of passing out every time I blink?"
Ava looked around at Jessica, who was pressed up against her right, Lucy, who was sitting to her left, and Carol, who was sitting on her husband's lap in the armchair.
"Surprise?" Jessica offered.
Zyan sighed deeply and shook his head before he toed off his shoes and disappeared into the bedroom with his duffel bag. He could feel Carter's gaze following him but ignored it in favor of dropping onto their bed.
"Ignore him. He's just tired," he heard Carter say through the ajar door. "It was actually a lot of fun."
"Did you take pictures?" Carol asked.
"Yeah, I've got some on my phone, but I'll show you later, after I check on Zyan. He tends to pass out before he even makes it to the bed."
Zyan could hear Carter's footsteps approach before the door opened and clicked shut. Zyan couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and check what Carter was doing.
"Do you think we should leave?" Zyan heard Ava ask. Though her voice was muffled by the walls and door.
"Nah," Carol said. "Let's just keep it down and order some food for when they wake up."
The mattress dipped as Carter crawled onto the bed next to Zyan. "Come on," he mumbled. A warm hand fell between Zyan's shoulder blades and rubbed over the tension held in the muscles there. "You can't be comfortable right now."
"I just want to sleep," Zyan replied, voice muffled by the pillow.
"And you can. But at least put on your pajamas first."
"I can't. I'm too tired."
"Oh, honey, you know you'll regret it if you keep those jeans on."
"Just let me sleep," Zyan mumbled.
"Only if you get up and get changed for me."
Zyan groaned. "Fine."
He allowed Carter to drag him up to his feet, where he immediately started to peel the jeans from his legs. "I feel disgusting," he grumbled.
"Take a shower, then."
"I can't. What if I fall asleep standing up, slip, and break my neck? I don't want to die wet and naked."
"I could join you," Carter offered. "You know…make sure you don't slip and die."
Zyan gave him a look. "Nothing will happen. You're aware of that, right?"
"Of course," Carter said earnestly. "I remember what happened last time we had sex in the shower."
Zyan sighed. "Don't remind me. But fine, let's go."
Twenty minutes later, he collapsed back onto the bed.
"I forgot how uncomfortable wet hair on a pillow feels," he muttered as Carter threw the covers over both of them.
"Do you think they think we just had shower sex while they were all right there?"
Zyan just groaned and rolled over, facing away from Carter, whose brain was apparently otherwise occupied. After a moment of silence passed, an arm wrapped around Zyan's waist and pulled him against Carter's chest.
"Hey?" Zyan said quietly.
"Hm?" Carter's breath brushed against Zyan's neck and made him shiver.
"Do you think the Diwata could even still take our immortality away if she felt like we weren't honoring her anymore?"
Carter's shrug jostled Zyan's arm. "I don't know. Maybe. She certainly seems powerful enough."
Zyan nodded a little. "What do you think would happen if she did?"
Carter started tracing patterns into the fabric over Zyan's heart. It felt too purposeful to be just random doodles. It felt like writing. Hangul, maybe. "I'd like to think we'd get to live a mortal lifespan…but it's more likely we'd just drop dead right away."
Zyan nodded slowly. "Better not risk it then."
Carter's chuckle was low. It vibrated against Zyan's back and brought a smile to his face. "Yeah. I'm not ready to go just yet."
"Me, neither." Zyan had almost drifted off, Carter's drawing had stopped, and yet, Zyan felt the need to say one last thing before sleep could take him. "I love you, Carter."
"I love you too."