There Are Nights Like These

“Hi.”

Edward looked down at the intruder. Light hair, bright eyes, dappled sunlight, hazy behind the smoke of his cigarette.

“What are you doing here, Milo.”

Milo shrugged, squinting past Edward to the slowly darkening sky. “The power went out, so I thought I’d come see if you were here. I know this is your place, but… want to go do something?”

Edward had thought he was the only one to consider the lonely brick wall at the back of the alley ‘his space’. Maybe that was why Milo didn’t come to find him often. 

“What if I say no?”

“Then I… leave?” Milo pointed his juice box over his shoulder, back the way he came. “It’s not that difficult, Teddy.”

Edward wrinkled his nose at the nickname. He knew Milo was only trying to get a rise out of him, and if it were anyone else it would have worked. But Edward only snuffed his cigarette and hopped off his perch, blowing the last of the smoke past Milo’s ear as he went. Milo’s smile soured and just as quickly reappeared, following Edward much like an excited puppy.

“Wanna go find out what caused the power surge?”

“That could be anywhere.”

“I bet it’s a power line right by your place. The highway.”

Edward rolled his eyes as he was steered in the direction. “You realize the chances of that are incredibly slim.”

“You’re just scared to lose your money.” Milo poked him in the arm. Edward shoulder checked him in return.

“On the contrary,” he said.

Incredibly - infuriatingly - Milo was right. Edward had planned to drive them around to see if they could find anything, but a block away from his grandparents’ house, they could see the main power line coming in from highway 23. Or, rather, they could see where it should have been, and they could see the thick darkness that strung the sky in its stead. 

“Is that… usually like that?” asked Milo. Edward couldn’t take his gaze from the dark.

“... No,” he replied. “No, it’s not.”

It was outside city limits, just at the edge of the village. The closer they came, the more void it seemed - not only of city workers, despite the mildness of the evening, but of everything Edward had come to love about South Winfree. Unfamiliar bird calls and distant cars and the buzzing still that set in once the sun went down.

Now the sun was going down, but the stillness wasn’t charged. This stillness was lifeless, and it felt to Edward as if the strange and sudden darkness was beginning to suck the night hollow.

Edward surveyed the lines, still a good walk away, and shook his head. 

“All right, I’m going home. This looks like the government’s problem.

But Milo turned around and kept walking backwards. “Aw, come on. We’re just going to see what’s up.”

“Just nothing,” said Edward, stopping short. Milo did not follow suit. “I can’t believe this. Milo -”

Something creaked in the middle of the darkness, low and long and aching. It rattled Edward from his fingertips in. He stopped breathing. Milo stopped moving.

Now, Edward didn’t run from many things. He didn’t run from fights, even if he knew he couldn’t win them. He didn’t run from Grandfather’s scoldings. He didn’t run from God as his mother liked to say he did, because Edward didn’t believe in God. He did believe in the sinking feeling that chased that groan - fingertips in - and thought that this might be something to run from. 

He thought, almost hoped, that Milo thought the same. But Milo’s wide eyed stare wasn’t fear. Edward realized this only when Milo shuddered and broke into a smile. No fear. Only awe.

“Let’s go check it out.”

Edward muttered some choice words to himself as Milo took off again, forcing his feet forward.

He only caught up at the bottom of the hill, in the thick of the dark and near the fallen utility pole. The creaking was louder here, more insistent. Milo was poking around the ground with his feet. 

“Feel it,” he said as Edward finally approached. Edward already felt it - the earth here was springy, damp, giving way beneath his sneakers. He looked up at the remaining power lines. They swayed uneasily in the wind where they’d snapped in the fall.

“I’m fairly certain this is how landslides start,” said Edward, glancing around them. He could see his grandparents’ house silhouetted in the distance, but it was only a small comfort. “Or, like, how houses sink into the ground.”

“Good thing we’re not houses,” Milo returned. His voice was muted as he delved deeper into the night. Edward couldn’t think of a good way to explain his misgivings, so he could only follow again.

The wind picked up, crisp and cold. It carried with it the rain that had been threatening to fall since morning. Edward usually liked storms, but this. This felt different. The uneasy feeling had clutched his spine. Standing here, it became apparent that this stillness wasn’t lifeless. It buzzed too, in a roiling, tense way that felt the same as a hornet’s nest sounds. It was uncomfortably familiar to Edward’s ribs. 

“Milo -”

Again, that creak. Something let a soft, popping crack. Edward looked at the nearest standing utility pole and felt the ground still sinking with his every step. It started to groan, to crack and bend, and Edward started running.

“Hey!”

Everything started moving. Everything started moving, which also meant a lot of things that should not have been moving, and Edward lost sight of Milo as the creaking became screams from the trees, birds crying as they tore free of their branches, the wind buffeting over him like a tsunami of dust and leaves and Edward couldn’t breathe again. It was in his throat. The utility pole bent towards them. Where was Milo.

Someone caught the back of his collar, choking and pulling him back. Edward would have cried out if he could breathe at all, but he only grabbed at the hand and struggled. The pole was still falling, slowly to Edward as if the wind tried to hold it in place. Few things, however, are stronger than gravity in a storm. Edward couldn’t tell where the scream came from, or the crunch - it was the wind, it was only the pole - but he couldn’t see enough to convince himself.

“Let go -” he growled, throwing an elbow back. It connected with something warm and solid, the vaguely familiar tensity of muscle. “Let me - Milo!”

Nothing. The hand didn’t release his collar, despite how he fought. The rain hushed the birds and put the earth back where it belonged, but Edward still held a bit of it in his lungs. When it had stilled again, the distance looked forever, but there was Milo, on the other side of the newly fallen utility pole. Standing. Staring. Behind him, a giant, dark figure had one arm protectively around his shoulders. That figure slowly let him go, and Milo stepped back to see. So did Edward.

His own captor looked almost exactly the same. As dark as the night they watched, bright eyes golden hazel and hardly alarmed. He towered over Edward - or maybe the space was simply exaggerated, as the space between Edward and Milo had been, because then Milo was beside him. Edward could hear his labored breaths and immediately turned away from the stranger.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, holding Milo at arm’s reach. “You… I told you not to go in there.”

Milo cleared his throat and nodded. He watched the strangers, one before and one behind, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Edward still couldn’t breathe right. His throat was closing, clogged or tightening or both. He began to panic - inhaler, where was his inhaler -

Milo grabbed for Edward’s jacket and managed to pull the inhaler from the inside pocket and shove it into Edward’s hand. Edward put it directly against his mouth, correct way be damned. The air hurt his throat going down.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Edward glanced up. It was the other stranger, the colder one with blue eyes. He didn’t seem as friendly as the first, but looking at Milo, Edward couldn’t be too concerned. 

“And you should?” he asked, voice still rough. Milo hit his arm, which meant he sounded more confrontational than he had intended. He did feel confrontational, if only because he was still panicking a little. His lungs were slow to work again.

“More than you,” said gold-eyes. “It’s dangerous. The authorities should be here soon.”

Edward shivered. The rain was soaking through his hoodie. He looked between them and narrowed his eyes.

“And who exactly are you?”

But gold-eyes looked over Edward’s shoulder and distant lights caught the frame of his face, blue and white and shocking on his skin. He said, “Getting you away from here. Come on.”

Edward couldn’t argue - the two were already on their way back up the hill, glancing occasionally over their shoulders. Milo held Edward’s sleeve again, tugging once before Edward could make himself move.

The tops of the power lines could just be seen over the hill from Edward’s grandparents’ house. He could see the dark and feel the rain, but he was fairly certain the faded creaking he heard was only in his head. He shuffled his arm several times on the walk back to assure himself Milo was still there.

He remembered to thank the strangers, only a little grudgingly. Raymond and Altair. Raymond, gold-eyes, smiled and gave Edward a strong handshake. 

“I’d recommend not trying it again,” he said. Edward glanced at Milo and nodded.

Edward drove Milo home. Milo checked his phone in the car to three missed calls from his parents. If they found out what had happened, they’d like Edward even less than they already did. But Milo didn’t say anything, assured them he was on his way home. Nothing had happened. No, he’d just gone for a walk. Of course he’d check in when he got home. Okay. Bye.

The car radio was still broken. Edward’s fingers tapped the steering wheel uncomfortably. 

“So you think it was the ground?” asked Milo. Edward shrugged.

“If it went deep enough.”

“... When do you think the power will be back on?”

“No clue. Might be a while. That’s a lot of power line to fix.”

Milo looked out the window. Signs flashed in the headlights as Edward sped down the neighborhood roads. He normally found solace in the pound of rain on his windshield, but he was still unnerved.

He let Milo off but didn’t see him inside. He didn’t want to risk a misgiving with the Keanes tonight.

When he got back, someone waited for him on the couch. Dark hair, beginning to grow out and curl in the back, leaned against the back of it as the owner stared into the dully crackling fireplace. 

Edward peeled off his soaking coat and shoes, standing on the welcome mat to drip dry for a moment.

“What do you want, James?”

James didn’t turn around yet. His shoulders heaved a sigh.

“Grandmother was having a fit. You being out there in the storm and all.”

“Well. Tell her I’m fine.”

The crackle of burning wood did nothing to ease his nerves. James finally turned around and surveyed the scene, making a face at Edward.

“You’re a mess.”

“Aren’t you the most civil thing.”

James sighed again, rubbing his temple with two fingers. “Fine. Good to know you’re alive.” He stood and raised a hand over his shoulder as he rounded the hallway towards the guest bedroom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Edward didn’t think too hard about saying, “Good night,” and hearing James’s steps falter for just long enough to notice. He looked back out the window and saw the thick dark finally fading, deep colors seeping into the South Winfree sky. All as it should be. He listened. The house was quiet. As it should be. And Edward could finally sleep easy.