6. Hart

Cane was in his car and Hart wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it. He didn't belong. Hart's car was just like everything else in his life—carefully curated to fit into the image of who he was. It was black and the perfect size to fit his diagnostics kit and a change of clothes without him having to cram everything in and risk anything being wrinkled and ruined. It was kept pristine and clean and smelling like all of Hart's favorite things. Lavender for relaxation and citrus for sharpness of mind. The perfect blend of scents.

Which Cane now added to with the distinct scent of cigarette smoke. Hart tried to pretend he didn't like it mixing with everything else, but he knew better than to lie to himself.

Cane was silent save for the occasional direction he murmured Hart's way as he drove toward their destination. Hart wanted to say he liked it like that, but again, arguing with himself felt pointless.

The silence between them was tense, and it made Hart's stomach feel heavy. He could feel himself clenching his teeth and did his best to unlock his jaw and relax. Cane pointed to the next right turn and then a small space where he could park his car just in front of them. Hart stopped the car and they shuffled out, his bag firmly in hand despite having no idea what to expect or where they were going.

He just followed Cane, hoping it would all be done soon.

The building they approached was a little run-down, but not massively. There were shadier corners of Slatehollow by a mile, and it deepened the insight Cane had unwillingly provided Hart with when explaining the twins. Cane had only told him to prove his point—he wasn't the type of guy to brag about his altruism.

Hart just…hadn't been expecting it.

Helping some abused kids get out of their awful life situation wasn't exactly on Hart's bingo list when it came to the man. But here was the evidence.

He watched Cane enter the code to the front door like he knew it by heart, and Hart trailed him up the stairs, Cane bypassing the elevator altogether. There was probably some reason for that, but Hart wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Plausible deniability and all that.

They reached the fifth floor eventually, Hart struggling to keep up with his bag while Cane took the stairs mostly two at a time.

"I can go if you're so desperate to run off," Hart complained, the fast pace pinching his toes. These shoes were not made for running, and neither was Hart.

Cane gave him a dry look over the railing of the next set of stairs. "If you wanted me to throw you over my shoulder, you should have asked nicely earlier."

Hart flared his nostrils. "Don't touch me."

He stomped his way up the remaining steps and quickly passed Cane, ignoring the luring scent of cigarette smoke that surrounded him like cologne.

Cane came up behind him, whispering in his ear, "That's what you say now."

Hart nearly missed a step, an involuntary shiver arcing down his spine.

Cane smirked, walking up the rest of the steps and grabbing the door. "This one."

Surprisingly, he waited for Hart to go first, but Hart figured it was because he wanted to make sure Hart didn't run off as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Hart was more professional than that…even if the thought had crossed his mind.

They walked down the hall, Cane carelessly knocking his knuckles on the walls between doorways until he stopped at 15B and knocked properly.

It didn't take long.

Someone who had to be ‘Soph' opened the door on the chain, a sliver of her young, pretty face appearing in the gap. Her blue eyes widened at the sight of Cane, then shuttered at the sight of Hart behind him. A stranger. She gasped, trying to slam the door. Cane stopped it with a firm hand.

"Open it, Soph. Now," he said, his voice low but without heat. Just unbending steel.

Soph trembled visibly but slowly followed the command, the metal clink and slide of the door unlatching filling the space.

"He didn't mean to, Cane. We…I mean… He didn't. He doesn't know why. He would never—" She stuttered as she opened the door wider, trying to both make herself small and block the way for her brother's sake.

She was slight in build, willowy and breakable looking under the purple dress she wore and the baggy white sweater over the top of it. Her brown hair was tied in a messy knot on top of her head, and she had a visible scar running across her jaw toward her mouth that made that side turn down in a permanent frown.

It looked painful.

It looked old.

Her eyes went to Hart, like he was the one there that was scary to her. "Please… Don't hurt him…please…"

It broke Hart's heart a little. The resignation on her face was too old for her years. Like she expected something bad. Someone to hurt them.

"We're just here to talk," Hart said softly, raising his hands to show he meant no harm.

"Hart's a cursebreaker," Cane said, patting Soph once on the head and stepping inside. "Where's Raph?"

Soph grasped Cane's arm, pointedly keeping her distance from Hart. It was entirely strange given their appearances, yet Hart understood that people could look entirely normal and turn out to be the worst monsters. From the sounds of it, she had experience with monsters, and she'd deemed Cane not one of them.

"He's in his room. He hasn't come out since you sent him home," Soph said, looking over at a single door near the small, worn kitchenette. She was wringing her fingers in front of her body, body trembling with barely suppressed nerves. "He was acting so strange when he got back. He was acting like a different person. Like he was…using. But you think it's a curse?"

The way she looked hopeful that it was that rather than the alternative was also a little heartbreaking.

Hart shut the door behind them politely but stayed where he was, not wanting to encroach on her safe space too much. "That's what I'm here to check for. If you both agree, of course."

Soph's eyes moved to him again, nervous and guarded, but her obvious distress won out. "Please help him, he's all I have," Soph said.

"I'll do everything I can. I promise," Hart said, eyes moving to the door in question. "Maybe you should call him out so he doesn't get spooked?"

Cane walked over to the door and banged on it before he could finish his sentence. "Kid, get your ass out here."

"Cane!" Hart hissed. "You're going to scare him half to death."

Cane rolled his eyes and said louder, "I'm not here to kill you." He looked back at Hart. "Happy?"

Hart pursed his lips. "You need to work on your social skills."

The door slowly opened, much the same way Soph had opened the front door. The same blue eyes peered through, looking mournfully at Cane before shuttering at the sight of Hart just beyond him.

Hart was starting to develop a complex.

He understood the reason, of course. They didn't know him and Cane had helped them. But Hart was great with people. He was likable. He was an upstanding member of society. Cane was none of those things!

Raph shuffled out of his room, barely able to look Cane in the eye as he moved to his sister's side. His light brown hair was matted to his head with sweat, but it looked like it curled just slightly at the ends. He was just as tall and thin as his sister. She whispered in his ear and then both their eyes swung Hart's way.

"You think I'm cursed?" Raph asked, sounding as hopeful as his twin.

Cane made himself comfortable in the armchair in the corner and pulled out a cigarette. He looked relaxed on the outside, but Hart could feel the tension he was pumping into the air. "All yours, sweetheart."

Hart glared at him before turning back to the twins. "It's a possibility. If you consent, I can check—"

"Yes!" Raph interrupted, stepping forward. "Anything."

Hart had to agree that in the face of this much sincere devotion, it must have appeared strange that Raph would suddenly go against the one thing Cane expressly forbid him from doing.

Hart cautiously walked farther into the apartment and set his bag down by the sofa. He started pulling his things out, looking at Cane as he brooded like a bad dream.

"Might be best if you give us some space," he said, making it sound like a suggestion but very clear it wasn't one.

"I'm not leaving," Cane said.

"I need him relaxed if we want this to work," Hart said. "You're not exactly a calming presence."

Cane crossed his arms over his chest in slow motion, determined to show just how much of a pain in Hart's…behind he was.

"Cane," Hart said warningly.

Cane shook his head. "I'm not letting him out of my sight." He glanced at Raph, who shrank under the attention like a misbehaving puppy. "I don't want him getting any more fun ideas."

"I didn't…" Raph started, but was cut off by Soph who suddenly burst out, "It wasn't our idea! We promise!"

Hart frowned at the words, and based on Cane's expression he caught the slip of her tongue too. She covered her mouth with her sleeve and Raph threw her a worried glance.

"Ours?" Cane asked, deceptively calm as he got back up. "We? That's not the first time you've slipped up today, Soph."

She took a step backward, eyes darting around, shaking her head. Tears were gathering at her lash line as Cane advanced.

Raph put himself between them with a jutted jaw. "She had nothing to do with it. It was all me…"

Cane snorted and pushed him aside easily, like swatting a fly, and Hart decided the only course of action was to put himself in Cane's path. Cane was a bulldozer, so he was up in Hart's space in no time, crowding close, hot breaths huffing down his neck and making him shiver.

"Cane." He placed a hand on Cane's chest and could actually feel his heartbeat under his palm. It was pounding. "You're not helping. Restraint is the greatest display of power."

"I don't give a shit," Cane growled into his face. "I want answers and I want them now."

"Then let me do my job and you'll have some. Or do you suddenly think they betrayed you after all and aren't cursed?" Hart raised an imperious brow.

Cane gnashed his teeth at it, eyes flicking to Soph over Hart's shoulder. "Talk," he said, but it lacked the previous menace.

"Cane, I'm sorry," she whispered, wringing her hands. "I don't know why…I just. It was like I had to do it. Like someone was making me."

"Making you do what?"

"I was the one who fucked up to start with," she admitted finally. "I was approached by this guy with the offer to sell at the warehouse. I brought the stuff in and roped Raph into helping me sell because I was behind the bar most of the time."

"Soph," Raph whispered.

Hart felt Cane's muscles tense under his touch. He could feel the predator inside him waking up, ready to pounce. Ready to defend what was his.

"I know this is hard to hear, but you already know there's something strange happening here," Hart said calmly into his ear. "Which is why you're going to step outside with me and let everyone settle down for a second."

"I…"

"And then you're going to let me do my job." Hart spoke over him, not letting him get a word in. "I can't give you answers if you're clogging everything with the rage you're putting into the air."

Cane glared at him, and Hart held his gaze, not backing down for a split second.

After some time, miraculously, Cane unwound. He dropped his gaze from Hart's face to the hand on his chest, and Hart held his breath, realizing just how close they really were. If Hart moved his head their noses would brush. His own heart began to race traitorously, his body reacting to the stimulus.

"Fine," Cane said suddenly, stepping away from him and grabbing his arm. He pulled Hart toward the front door, turning to the twins before he walked out. "You have ten minutes to get yourselves in order."

He pushed Hart out the door and slammed it behind him, pacing the small hallway like a caged lion.

His face betrayed a storm of emotions and Hart caught himself cataloging each one. Cane was angry, but that was just surface level. That was what he was allowing to escape and be seen by others. It was a safety emotion. Something he knew how to handle.

Beneath that was disappointment and uncertainty. Softer, more vulnerable emotions that Cane couldn't seem to deal with. He didn't know how to channel them into something productive. Hart watched as he let them fester and turn into anger before they bubbled to the surface and he slammed a fist into the wall.

"This isn't productive," Hart said, putting all of his training and understanding of the human mind behind his words.

"Productive?" Cane hissed, flexing the fingers on his bruised hand. "I don't give a fuck about productive."

"Yes, you do," Hart said, walking over and against his better judgment taking Cane's hand between his own. "You care about those kids."

Cane huffed and looked away, refusing to let Hart see his words hit home.

"You know them," he continued. "You got them out of something ugly because you saw good in them. Potential."

"Fat load of good that did," Cane said, but his voice sounded calmer than before. The tense hand in Hart's hold relaxed—only slightly, but he noticed.

"Remember who they were when you found them," Hart said. "Remember why you saved them. Why you took a chance on them."

Cane fell silent, eyes distant and dark as he processed the words. Hart knew he had him where he wanted him. Inside the memories that brought back the human side of Cane, the side that felt compassion and kindness.

"Who did that to her?" Hart asked quietly, thinking of Soph's scar. "Who did it to them?"

Cane didn't bother to ask what he meant as he clenched his fingers into a fist again. "I told you. Their old man was a piece of work."

Hart felt sick to his stomach, turning his gaze on the door behind him.

"What did you do to him?" Hart asked, just knowing.

Cane shrugged, not even trying to deny it. "I just returned to sender all of his unwanted ‘gifts.'"

Hart found it hard to feel remorse, even though he knew it wasn't morally right. Cane doled out violence at his own whim, using his own views and ideals as law, handing out punishments like he was judge, jury, and executioner. But one look at Soph's scarred face, at both of their fear at such a young age, and Hart was unable to suppress the satisfied gleam of vindication in his chest.

"Why?" he asked finally.

Cane looked into his eyes. "Why what?"

Hart jerked his chin to the door. "Why do it for them?"

"You already know."

"But I want to hear it from you. And I think you need to hear it said out loud."

Cane pulled his hand out of Hart's and turned his back on him.

"They're good kids," he said, talking to the empty hall. "They deserved a chance. They don't need to turn out like the rest of us."

"And they're grateful to you for it," Hart said. "You don't believe they'd betray you."

"No."

"Okay. Then stay here, calm down, and let me see what's happening with them, all right?"

Cane turned back to look at him, tense and wound tight still.

"Don't come inside until I'm done," Hart said. "You'll only break their focus."

Cane huffed again, but Hart was already walking away, entering the apartment, and closing the door behind him. He released a breath, leaning against the closed door and shaking the tension out of his shoulders.

He looked in front of himself and found Raph and Soph at the kitchen table, holding each other and talking softly.

"Right," Hart said, trying to get the situation back under control. "Are you two okay?"

Soph shook her head, holding her brother tighter.

"We ruined the best thing that ever happened to us," she said through a sob, and Raph kissed her hair, looking up at Hart with tear-filled eyes.

"We didn't mean to," he said again, and Hart frowned at the words.

"You keep repeating that," he said. "What do you mean by it?"

"We know we did it," Raph said. "We remember doing it. We both remember thinking we had to. Thinking it was important. But neither of us remembers why. And neither of us agrees with what we did."

Hart walked farther into the place, pulling a chair out and settling in it. "So you're saying you had no control over your actions?"

Soph shook her head.

"It's not like that," she said. "I think we both know what it's like to not be in control. We both…drank and…tried other stuff before Cane. This wasn't like that."

"Yeah." Raph nodded. "We knew what we were doing. But it was like we were listening to someone we couldn't say no to. Someone that made so much sense at the time that we just went with it. We don't know how to explain, but we didn't mean to do it, even though it was us that did it."

They fell silent and Hart turned their words over in his head as much as he could. Something didn't add up.

"Okay," he said. "How about we check to see whether you're cursed?"

They both nodded instantly, alert and ready to cooperate.

Hart got his bag and set his things up the way he liked them, instructing the twins to sit close enough to each other to be able to see themselves in the mirror.

Hart preferred individual diagnostics, but he knew he'd never be able to pry the two of them away from each other emotionally, so tandem it was.

He explained the process to them in full. He allowed them several moments to breathe and settle into the state of mind he needed them to be in before he started guiding them toward the answers.

They were cooperative, their minds young and malleable. Open to suggestion from him. Open to being led where Hart wanted them. As easy as it made his process, it also had him worried.

With that much openness about them both, he could see how they could have been influenced into doing something they didn't really want to do. It checked out, for sure.

"And once you feel like you're ready, I want you to open your eyes and look into the mirror," Hart said finally, fully expecting them to see the curse floating around their heads.

What he got instead were two sets of confused eyes, staring into the mirror and frowning.

"I just see me," Soph said, and Raph nodded.

"I see us both," he said. "But nothing else."

"Nothing?" Hart asked, and they both shook their heads in tandem, desperation clear on their faces.

"Does that mean we're not cursed?" Soph asked, voice shaking.

"Did we do all of that on purpose?" Raph added.

Hart wished he had answers for them. They were both distraught and on the verge of tears again. He sat down in front of them and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"The only thing I can tell you right now is that you weren't hit with a curse specific to what I do," Hart said. "But I don't feel right about the things you said earlier. There is something here, and I promise I will do everything I can to get to the bottom of it."

"Cane is gonna throw us out," Raph said. "We have nowhere to go."

Hart shook his head.

"Cane will do no such thing," he said, standing up and gathering his things. "He's a hothead, but he's not an idiot…most of the time. And I know it might not look like that, but he does care about you two. He wouldn't be doing all of this if he didn't. I'll talk to him. You two just calm down, and try not to leave your apartment for a few days."

He pulled his card out of his wallet and handed it to them.

"This is my number," he said. "If you feel compelled to do something again, like before, see if it'll allow you to contact me. Maybe if we catch it in action…"

They both nodded and Hart gave them an encouraging smile before stepping out of their small apartment.

He found Cane smoking against the opposite wall, acting as always like no rules applied to him. He shot Hart a sharp look the moment he realized he was there.

"Well?" he asked.

Hart took a deep breath, savoring the taste of smoke on his tongue for a second before he shook his head.

"They're not cursed," he said, and Cane's entire body locked right back up. "Hear me out first. They're not cursed with anything of mine, and I don't think they're cursed at the moment."

"The fuck does that mean?" Cane asked.

"I don't know yet," he said. "But some things they said raised some suspicions."

"What?"

"Like I said, I don't know yet," Hart said. "So I'm gonna take you back to your place and then meet with my team to consult on this. Something is going on. I just don't understand what it is yet."

"They—"

"They're gonna stay inside and wait to hear from me," Hart said. "You will text me their numbers and then leave them in peace until this is resolved, because you actually care about them."

Cane wanted to argue, Hart could tell, but he opted for the smarter choice of throwing his hands in the air and then stalking down the stairs, leaving Hart to scramble after him.

"Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet," Hart called after him, but something told him the words wouldn't have the desired effect on Cane.

He took the stairs after him, a million questions forming in his head as he walked out of the building. Cane was already gone.