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H arlow held back the words ‘ but I don’t ’, because he knew Foxx wouldn’t want to hear them. But that was how he felt. He wasn’t sure how to explain his thoughts in a way that would make Foxx understand. It wasn’t that he undervalued his own life…

Well, he likely did—just a bit. Harlow, honestly, through most of his life, hadn’t really given a damn if he lived or died. Or rather, he had felt nothing about it. He was always of the opinion that if he died, he died—oh well?

But with Foxx being his—even before the man had said yes to going out with him—Harlow realized he had already decided that if it ever came down to him or Foxx, it would always be Foxx.

Abuse-wise… As a child, Harlow had experienced what many would call abuse, as it definitely would be to most. But frankly, he wasn’t fucking normal enough to have any trauma response from it. He, in fact, felt absolutely nothing about any of the potentially traumatizing experiences. And that was saying something, as even he’d say some of it was pretty fucked up, regardless of how little he cared that it had happened.

Smile widening, Harlow caressed the man’s hand under his. “Foxx, because you’re mine, you will always matter more to me than everyone else, including myself.”

Foxx sniffled, his tears continuing to trail down, as they had been the whole time. “I’ll…just have to make you matter more to me then. ”

His smile faltered slightly at that. Yeah…no, that really didn’t work for him. Because he needed Foxx to matter the most in Foxx’s head, so the brat wouldn’t do something stupid, like try to sacrifice himself for Harlow. Fucking hell…

Because now was not the time to have this argument, as it definitely would turn into one, Harlow just hummed in response.

Later…he’d save this worry for later. No point in asking for more trouble when he still wasn’t sure how he was going to ultimately help the vampire get through what had just happened when he couldn’t fucking feel sadness. Though, now that the man wasn’t screaming and wailing, the ache in his chest had gone away at least.

Shit, what the hell was he going to—Wes! Wes would—fucking hell, was Wes here?! Harlow looked over at Tony, and found the man still staring at him, looking awkward and like he still had something to say, and then he did.

“Why do I always feel like I need therapy after listening to you two?”

Foxx sputtered, and looked back, the man almost instantly bursting into sobs again on spotting Charity.

Tony's eyes widened. “Ah, shit, Foxx… I…”

“You just had to open your big fucking mouth,” Harlow said with a glare, as he turned the vampire back around and pressed his face to his chest. “Are we sure I’m the only psycho here?”

“I wasn’t trying to be insensitive! It just came out,” the human said defensively.

“Well, you were! And you made him cry again.”

Though, technically, the vampire had already been crying, he was just doing it loudly now.

“You can’t honestly tell me you believe your relationship is normal!?” Tony blurted out, before suddenly shaking his head and saying, “No, I shouldn’t have said that. Foxx, I’m sorry.”

Harlow scoffed, and instead of commenting on any of that, he asked, “Is Wes here?”

Foxx flinched in his hold, the vampire’s cries cutting off abruptly this time as he pulled back.

The man stared up at him with his wide, watery aquamarine-green eyes as he hiccupped and stuttered, “W-Wes?” The man glanced back at Tony. This time not losing it instantly, he repeated Harlow’s question. “I-is W-Wes here?”

Tony grimaced. “He…was setting up his new office.”

Ah, fuck…

Foxx stiffened, a sob slipping out as he cried, “I-I don’t—I-I don’t hear any heartbeats coming from that direction!” Harlow pulled him closer again when the vampire let out a whine, sounding like he was seconds from breaking down again.

The human’s eyes widened and he quickly corrected himself. “No, no, he isn’t using Johansson’s old office! He didn’t like the asinine, self-important setup. It’s going to be redone… Well, I guess everything is going to be redone now. But he decided to use one of the storage rooms down the hall and around to the left of my office. Room 128.”

An office that definitely did not exist anymore.

“Left… Okay…” Foxx sniffled, his plush bottom lip trembling as he started taking one slow, shuttered breath after another, clearly trying to pull himself back together.

Harlow began to wipe away the tears still trailing down his cheeks. The man’s eyes were red underneath, raw from the crying. He rubbed the vampire’s red freckled nose with the sleeve of his jacket, uncaring about the snot.

“I apologize again for my comment. And I hate to say this,” Tony sighed, “but we don’t have time to mourn right now. I know it hurts, Foxx, but our people need your help. Even if that help is just to be there with them while they die.”

“Really?!” Harlow glared at Tony over Foxx’s head when the vampire let out a whimper, and his tears ramped back up at the man’s words.

“I’m sorry, but that is where we are at right now,” the human said grimly. “In moments of tragedy, when life is very much still on the line, grief cannot win, or be allowed to flourish. Not yet, not when people are counting on us. When all is said and done, and there is nothing left for us to do, that’s when we will grieve. When?—”

“Can the lecture and just ask your damn questions, and give your orders, Tony,” he snapped, before pressing a kiss to Foxx’s forehead when the man sniffled .

Tony gave him a tense smile. “What can you tell me about the situation? Do we have any idea who is responsible for this? Also, the fire went out suddenly, but…”

“The explosions were Maverick’s doing. As for the fire…” He wrinkled his nose. “Gavin. He has to be here.”

The vampire sniffled again and asked, “Gavin?” The man sounded confused.

“I’ll explain later,” Harlow promised, while pulling the man back against his chest. Foxx clung to him, burying his face into Harlow’s shirt.

“That solves those mysteries. The first, I had figured out already.” Tony’s jaw clenched, his mouth twisting with anger as the vein on his forehead started to bulge. “As for the second, now my question is, why the fuck did he have to put it out? Why did it take almost forty fucking minutes for anyone to breach the damn building?!”

“Fire Chief Briggs delayed the efforts. Some bullshit about it being protocol, and dangerous paranormals. Dangerous paranormals, as in the hunters inside.”

“That bastard!” Tony growled. “Is he blocking help?”

“He's blocking fire department help, yes. Sean Wicklow and his people? No. I don’t know about the paramedics though. I'm not sure who they will listen to. Especially as Sean is inside, and the officer directing on the outside is likely a lower rank than Briggs.”

The human ground his teeth together for a brief moment before snapping, “One of you give me a cellphone. Both of mine are shot, and I have some calls to make. A normal one is fine.”

Harlow reached into one of the inner pockets in his leather jacket and pulled out his normal phone, that he was secretly hoping Tony managed to break. He handed it over, before prodding Foxx to stand up as he did. The vampire stood, but seemed reluctant to do much else except cling to him.

“Have you seen Liam Barlowe?” Tony asked.

Harlow hadn’t looked around much in the open office area, after spotting what was left of Tony’s office, yet he’d seen and heard enough. “Dead.”

“Fuck!” the man shouted, roughly rubbing his face, before he dropped his hands and sort of sagged there a bit .

With his expression pinched, Tony eyed them silently, before apparently coming to a decision. “Harlow, you are in charge. I’ll try to direct you when I can, and I'll call you on your secure line when I need to. Foxx, you are in charge of making sure Harlow doesn’t purposely kill anyone, mainly officials.

“Now, both of you, please, go. Help where you can. Harlow, I don’t think I need to tell you to leave the dying to Foxx, but I will in case you decide Foxx’s feelings matter more. Don’t make people’s last moments be staring into your ugly, unfeeling mug!”

Foxx pulled away, spinning towards the human as he snapped, “Harlow isn’t unfeeling, or ugly!” The vampire glared, but with him being cute and crying, it likely ruined any sort of threat.

Harlow smirked, and just kissed the top of Foxx’s head. “Come on, Brat. You can defend me later. We’ve got people to ‘help’, and officials—ugh—to deal with.”

Foxx felt a slight impulse to argue the point, if only to push everything else from his mind. That impulse died quickly when he caught sight of Charity again. A tremble ran through him, and he barely suppressed the urge to break down into a writhing, screaming mass of pain. His heart ached with each beat it took. It was just this sharp throbbing that made breathing harder. Foxx wanted…

He wanted to find a corner somewhere so that he could lose his ever loving shit—again. But he couldn’t… Tony was right. There wasn’t time. So he wouldn’t. He would shove down every thought, every memory he had of Charity, because he wasn’t sure he’d have any emotions left for anyone else if he let himself feel anymore right now.

Sniffing hard, he swallowed past the lump in his throat, forcing the tears to stop as he buried everything deep in a pit inside himself.

Taking a deep breath, Foxx cleared his throat and asked, “Do you need us to get you out of here? ”

Tony shook his head. “No, my leg’s broken, but it's not serious enough to bother others with yet. I can wait. Go.”

Foxx hesitated. “Being older, you?—”

“The tourniquet can stay on no longer than two hours. If the deadline starts to get near, I’ll be loud about it. Go.”

Sighing, he nodded and started to turn, but then his gaze was drawn back to Charity. His grief tried to leap out from where he’d shoved it down, as his heart painfully clenched, but he held it back, another tremble traveling through him from his efforts. “We can’t just…leave her under there.”

Gaze unwavering, Tony said almost sternly, “You are going to have to, Foxx. Between the injured, the dying, and the dead, the dead have to wait. Someone will come to get her. She won’t be left here, that I can promise you. Now, go.”

“Come on, Foxx,” Harlow murmured, the man’s voice sounding oddly gentle.

Foxx let the dhampir pull him out of the room, as he was trying not to think or hear. As much as he managed to hold back some of his pain, to stop himself from breaking down further, the thoughts coming now had nothing, yet at the same time, everything to do with Charity. Guilt had always been harder to ignore…

He knew he wasn’t responsible for this. Yet…he felt like he had failed. And it wasn’t because he couldn’t bring her back after her threads went dark… Foxx had been very actively lying to himself in that moment, telling himself that what he’d been attempting would work. He knew it wouldn’t, even when he’d been fighting to keep doing it. Denial was like a drug sometimes, hard to let go once you got a taste.

But what if… What if they had arrived sooner? Or if they’d ignored the Fire Chief and just gone in? Sure, fire hurt, but they’d have lived. What if he hadn’t hesitated? Or, what if they had been here?! What if…he had answered Charity. She’d been… She’d been texting him. If he had called her, and she’d left the room to answer… Would Tony be dead instead…? Was Wes dead now too?

Others were dead. How many people that he’d talked to, that he knew, had died? Foxx hadn’t been close to them all… Was Jerry dead?

Sniffling, Foxx shook his head, rubbing at his eyes as he shoved the thoughts away. They didn’t have time for this. None of them had time for him to break down, whether through grief or guilt.

Taking a shuddered breath, Foxx wiped his face and stopped dragging his feet, walking swiftly through the hall he’d run down initially with so much hope. That hope was dead, in the hands of the bright, smiling woman he’d left buried under a wall.

Foxx’s gaze flicked around as they reached the main office space. The room was chaotic; people running around, some limping, and parts of the room itself looked as if it exploded, with blast marks on the ground. There was paper and broken, overturned furniture everywhere, along with what he was now sure had been shit planted in the ceiling above.

The door that led to the front reception desk and the entrance was torn off, but he couldn’t really see into the room. At first glance, it looked like it had totally collapsed, but it hadn't. At the bottom, there was a small space, big enough for someone to crawl through and get inside.

Pausing beside Tony’s destroyed office, he listened as he said, “We have to check on Jerry. I know it’s selfish to look for those we were close to first, but…” He cut off when he heard it—two heartbeats. Both were coming from the front, and neither were human.

“We’ll check on whoever the hell you want to, Foxx.” Harlow smirked. “I’m a selfish bastard, you know that.”

Foxx had thought so at first, but to him…Harlow really wasn’t. Sure, he could be about stupid shit, but so could everyone else. But as a person, one had to be greedy to be selfish, and the only thing the man seemed to be greedy about was his claim on him.

He cleared his throat. “Come on, let’s find Wes. Jerry is fine, I can tell. He’s not…”

“Human?”

“Not anymore.”

Harlow nodded, and they headed down the hallway. Foxx moved fast, as his fear ramped up thinking about what they’d find, but he slowed when he came around the corner and found two people arguing.

The short hallway to the back exit was there at the end of the hall, and a few feet away, in front of a blocked door, stood a petite officer with long, braided dark-brown hair, and honey toned olive skin. He was arguing fiercely with a werewolf more than a foot taller than him, who had long black hair flowing freely down his back, and deeply tanned skin.

“Look,” the wolf growled. “I get it. You heard someone. But I’m telling you, no one is inside there, dead or alive!”

“No, you look, furball!” the officer snapped while pointing. “Someone was calling for help! It stopped, but SOMEONE is in there. And I’m not walking away until I know for sure! So either helped me unblock the damn door, or get the fuck out of my way!”

The werewolf’s eyes narrowed.

Foxx’s gaze flicked to the door in question as they approached, flinching when he realized it was the one they’d been looking for—the room Wes should be in. But when he listened and drew in a deep breath, he realized the wolf was right. Foxx smelled Wes, his blood, but there was no heartbeat. Yet also there was…no body. However, like the officer…he had to be sure. There was so much going on, what if he was wrong?

Without hesitation, Foxx shoved the wolf out of his way when he reached the door. Harlow stepped between them as the man let out a threatening growl. He ignored them both in favor of trying to unblock the door. The police officer, who he quickly realized was shorter than him, jumped into helping, the man giving him a tense smile when their eyes met.