The Silver Saint

(CW: Mentions of suicide or self-harm, Mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse}

I glance over my shoulder, hearing the slight shuffling in the room a short distance away. With a sigh, I stand, stepping towards the kitchen. I grab a pot, attempting to be as quiet as possible, before stepping towards the sink.

Floorboards creak as footsteps sound in the room, muffled cursing following soon after.

~

It had been an average night, with the average folks stopping by. Folks like Cassian, Elara, or Lysander, to name a few.

"How much longer until your shift's over? Feel's like you've been behind that counter for hours," Cas complains, leaning on the counter with a sloppy smile.

I offer a smile. "Uh-huh, right, how long have you been here for, Cas?" I ask.

"Oh, er, a few hours?"

"No, you've been here for forty minutes."

Cas rolls his eyes as he wanders off, a slight skip in his step. He was usually very anxious, incapable of letting his thoughts relax. It's why he liked the Serenade Espresso so much. Three shots of espresso, a quick incantation, and voila, a relaxed and somewhat confident Cas.

I smiled at the cup I spun and heard the doors open. I couldn't help but look up, curious as to who was stopping by, only to find a face that didn't have a name to go with it.

~

I pull the cupboard open, grab two mason jars {Some of the only empty jars in the apartment} and step away, making a note to close the cupboard once I finish. I pour the water into both glasses, though the stop of the sound catches my attention. I had gotten so used to the footsteps that only when they stopped did I realize those were footsteps. I look up, meeting the gaze of the person I'd seen last night. I still didn't know their name.

~

He stepped through the building clumsily as though putting as much space between himself and the door. He wore average clothing, average jeans, average grey shirt, average everything. Well, besides the necklace, that was unique. He sat on a stool at the furthest corner of the counter. Curious, I decided to walk over. Before I could get a word out, he was speaking.

"I need something that works quicker than Cyanide and as well as Arsenic," He says, his voice trembling as he looks at me desperately.

~

"I never caught your name," I say. I realize I still hold the empty pot and turn to put it away in the sink, only to remember the cupboard. I put the pot down on the stove, making a note to put that away, before closing the cupboard.

"Elias," He says.

I pull a drawer open, grabbing the teabags that sat within. "I'm Cyrus," I say, offering a comforting smile as I look back at him. His eyes looked anywhere but at me, dark brown hair falling over his eyes as he kept his gaze on the floor. "I made tea," I say, tearing the packets and putting two teabags in each cup. I slide one towards him—a few runes lighting up on my bracelets as I murmur an incantation—curious to see if he'd actually walk over or stay leaning on the wall of the hallway.

He shuffles forward, mumbling a thanks before picking up the jar. He holds it carefully, and I can't help but notice how bruised his hands are. How could he even hold the cup without his hands hurting? "I... I really shouldn't— I've already burdened you enough," He says, only now his gaze drifting up to meet mine.

~

I didn't know how to continue this conversation. "You... you want me to—" I begin, brows knit with confusion.

"Yes," He says. "Please."

I glance at the doors. "Is somebody looking for you?" I ask.

His jaw tightens as he holds my gaze. He had piercing brown eyes, so dark they practically seemed black. He had so many bruises. Horribly purple and yellow bruises. Some on his jaw, some below his eye. Even on his neck, a patchwork of bruises disappeared below his collar. And scratches. He had a lot of scratches, scars, and bandages.

I take that as a yes. I glance at the doors once more, and with a slight hand motion, I can see the lock twist on every one of them. I murmur an incantation under my breath as I grab a glass from beneath the counter. "Look, I'm not gonna help you kill yourself, alright? That's not what I do, nor what this place is meant for," I say, "But I can help you. That is what I, as well as this place, is meant for."

He holds my gaze, his eyes flicking to any movement before he looks down at his hands.

~

I couldn’t help but smile softly as I lip the tea to my lips. “Well, I think I should get to decide that, eh?” I ask. I set the glass down with a sigh. “Look, Elias, I’ve… you’re not the first person I’ve helped. I’ve helped plenty of people in bad situations, alright? That’s my job.”

I could’ve sworn I saw the faint beginnings of a smile, though it seemed to fade as soon as it could’ve begun. “You run a zero-alcohol bar?” Elias says.

“Sure, but there’s a reason all those bruises don’t hurt so much anymore,” I say, pointing to him casually. “I add a small bit of magic, and people get what they want: calmness, confidence, whatever it is they need.”

Elias is quiet for a long moment, pondering this as he keeps his hands on the mug. He seemed to enjoy the warmth of it.

“Look, I want to help. What can I say? I like to help. Ask anybody I know,” I say.

Once again, I almost get him to smile, but it disappears before he can let it form.

“You came to me for help, a stranger. Now, I know you probably didn't think I’d go out of my way to help, but I’m extremely stubborn as well as caring, so I’m helping you,” I explain, “Okay?”

Elias looks at me, frowning, before asking, “Why?”

I shrug my shoulders, glancing down at my mug. “Honestly? Because I’ve been in really bad situations too that I couldn’t get out of,” I say, “And I know how it feels to be in a room full of people who don’t care about you. I don’t want anybody else to ever go through that.”

Elias’s gaze softens slightly as he finally holds my gaze for over five seconds.

~

The sound of a door thudding startled the both of us, though it seemed to truly terrify Elias. He looks over his shoulder, his breathing trembling once more. “I knew I shouldn’t have done this,” He whispered. “I knew–”

The doors swing open now, and naturally–due to the incantation, I liked to make sure nobody got hurt in the crossfire–those who stood between me and the door stepped out of the way in a subtle way that it wasn’t obvious in first. I slip a bat out from under the counter before stepping out from around it.

“Don’t. You’ll just get hurt,” Elias says, standing. “I– I shouldn’t have even–”

“Sit. You’re not going anywhere,” I state. And it was true. I was horribly stubborn, and though I’d only met this person minutes ago, I knew if they went with these strangers, they might not make it this far ever again.

“We’ll be out of your hair in a moment, sir,” A well-dressed man says, his eyes never leaving Elias. “Won’t we, Elias?”

I offer a smile as I stop in front of the stranger, the bat propped up on my shoulder. “No, you won’t. You leave now, and maybe you won’t have a limp,” I say. “If you get what I’m putting down?”

He had slicked-back black hair and wore a neat suit. He had piercing blue eyes, so unsettling that even I didn’t want to hold his gaze. I ignore the strange feeling and hold his unyielding gaze. “Mr…?”

“Drozdov?” I say, annoyed that he wasn’t leaving. I use my free hand to slip my phone from its pocket. Yeah, I was definitely getting the cops right now. I risk a glance and manage to call them. I’m relieved when my phone is silent. Lucky for me I had a friend at the nearby precinct. I had a good lot of friends, I must admit. She would know where I am. We’ve had a couple bothersome guys like this come in here and cause trouble, she knew the drill.

“Yes, Mr. Drozdov, he’s my property, and if you don’t let me take him, I will forcibly,” He takes a step forward, standing inches from me now. “And I do not think you would like that, especially in such a respectable establishment.”

I couldn’t help but smile, lowering the baseball bat. “Let’s talk, how about that?” I offer, nodding to the counter.

The stranger’s eyes dart to the counter, then to Elias, then back at me. He nods.

We both return to the counter, though I make sure to set my baseball bat on the two stools beside Elias before sitting down, keeping the stranger three seats away from him.

~

“You don’t know that man, though, do you?” Elias asks.

I shake my head, curious as to where this is going, as I take a sip of the tea. I liked this tea. My mother used to give it to me when I didn’t feel well when I was a little kid.

“Then how do you know how it feels?” He asks.

I sigh. I didn’t think I’d be talking about my own issues with people with him, but maybe I can get him to tell me about him if I tell him about me. “If I tell you, will you tell me who the man was and why he was looking for you?” I ask.

Elias ponders this before nodding.

I nod, holding the mug in my hand to soak in the warmth. “My father. He was very respectable for a long time, and… and after an incident, we lost someone important. My mother. She died in a car accident. It could’ve happened to anybody, really, but… I don’t know. People used to tell me to just give him time to mourn. So I did, and for the first few months, he was just… really quiet. He wouldn’t talk to anybody, not even me.

“And then, after a bit, he started drinking and… and he stopped being quiet really fast. I don’t know, I– I guess I really just wanted him to say something to me for once; it’d been months. It didn’t take long until I wanted him to be quiet again. And sometimes he was. And it was… it was horrible.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sometimes I still wonder which was worse: Being ignored no matter what I did or being screamed at for the smallest thing.”

Elias swallows, still holding the mug. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” He says quietly.

I shrug. “It was a year or so ago; it’s… he’s the same guy; I’m just glad to not have to be there anymore,” I say.

“Did… did you–”

“Try to get rid of the drinks?” I ask, nodding. “Once. When I was eleven. I took every single thing in the house, the wine, the beer, everything, and I burned it.”

Elias knew in a second that this story wasn’t going to end well.

“It got me two things: A really bad scar and a lesson. I never did it again because I couldn’t step into the room for a month without getting screamed at.”

Elias looks down at his hands, brushing his left hand over his right wrist before looking up. “Did anybody else ever find out?” He asks.

I smile softly. “Two people knew. Only the quiet part, but they knew something was wrong. They’d known since the accident, but they didn’t know the rest,” I explain. “What about you? Who was the man?” I note the pot and roll my eyes. I had forgotten all about it. I pick the pot up and move it to the sink, then realize I’d just used it for water; it didn’t need to get washed. I put it back on the stove as I listen to Elias.

“He was… I never knew his name, I never heard it; he was just a trainer of sorts, I guess. The guy in charge?” Elias explains. “A really, really strict trainer.”

I frown. “A trainer for what?” I ask.

Elias swallows, their grip tightening until their knuckles are white. They seem to realize this and loosen their grip. “Fighting, mostly. Hence the bruises,” They explain. “I’ve… I’ve always been there; it was normal. Or… I– I thought it was. Then it started to get a lot harder,” Their hand brushes their side, as though they were rethinking a fight, or maybe an old wound.

~

I lean on the counter, noticing the door quietly swing open. I watch Callista as she steps inside, a gun and handcuffs holstered in her belt as she steps through the room. “You’re not leaving with Elias, sir,” I say, looking at the man once more. “Not now and not ever, I can promise you that, love.”

I don’t flinch when he lifts his fist to swing a punch.

Callista manages to lock the handcuffs, and given the man's surprise, she easily gets the other wrist there too. She said the usual things, lawyers and whatever I didn’t care about. I sit on the counter now, smiling at Callista, and hold the man’s arm to keep him still.

“Cyrus, the kid’s gonna need to come too; he’s a witness,” Callista states.

“Pop on by tomorrow, Ali. It’s been a rough night for the kid,” I say.

Callista sighs, glancing at Elias, then back at me. “Tomorrow,” She states.

I smile softly.

“C’mon, up, let’s go,” Callista says, dragging the man towards the door.

I scratch my jaw as I glance at Elias. “I told you I could help,” I say, noticing the surprise in his eyes. “You got a place to sleep?”

Elias shakes his head. 

“Right, I’ve got a spare room; you can pop up there for the next few nights ‘till you’re set up and stuff,” I say with a wave of my hand as I move to stand on the opposite side of the counter. “Okay, um, do you have any open wounds?”

“Not at the moment,” He states, glancing towards the door, then back at me. His gaze softens, his shoulders relaxing from their very tense position. 

“Okay, so just the good ol’ achy bones, got it,” I say. “One cure coming up.”

Elias’ brow was knit in confusion, though they said nothing to object.

~

“Well, look, Callista, she’s the wonderful gal from last night; she’ll probably stop by later for a few questions. I’ll see if you can stay here, but you might have to go to the precinct with her, and since I can close up shop, that’s fine,” I say, “So since it’s early, you fine with eggs and bacon? Or are you vegan? Shit, what’s a vegan breakfast? Toast?”

Elias chuckles, the first time I’ve actually heard anything remotely close to a laugh, before saying, “Eggs are fine; I’m not vegan. Though the care is appreciated.” 

I smile, proud to know I’d gotten him to laugh. “Eggs it is,” I say. “And thanks for telling me? I just really want to help, is all.”

Elias nods. “It’s alright. It’s good to want to help people. Too many people don’t want to help,” He says.

I nod in agreement. “Drink the tea, though; it helps make the bruises heal faster,” I say.

“How?”

“Magic. That’s why there’s no alcohol. One, I can’t stand it, and two, it just makes problems,” 

Elias smiles softly. “First time I’ve met someone who agrees with me on that,” He says.

I smile. “First time for everything,” I say.