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On the occasional, often uninvited, moments when Andrew thinks back to his magic’s first manifestation what sticks out the most in his faithless and unrelenting memory is the fury.
It is the clear thought of wanting to make himself so sharp and so prickly a cactus would look soft in comparison, that no one would dare to touch him again. He thought so fiercely of ways his body could naturally protect himself from predators, just like so many plants in the wild, that an air plant with knife-sharp needles appeared out of thin air, smooth side landing on his chest with the sharpest of edges pointing away.
Blood was spilt that night, but in a rare turn of events, it wasn't his.
Sometimes he isn’t positive it was fury at all, but rather it’s what the feeling evolved into: fury for how long it took his magic to manifest, to be able to protect himself.
From that day forward, his foster family switched focus from controlling his body to controlling the money he earned from his unusual, but lucrative, magical ability.
That was until social services reached out about his birth family, about his twin brother who wrote a letter to the boy that looked like his mirror image after seeing a video interview of Andrew, and his foster parents, about his plants. Though with Aaron came Tilda and Andrew had already lived in enough broken homes to recognize an addict, but Aaron looked like he too needed Andrew’s protection so the choice wasn’t really a choice at all.
It’s almost ironic how after failing to heed Andrew’s warning, Tilda failed to heed her doctor’s warning about her severe nut allergy, going into anaphylactic shock while driving and drinking an almond milk iced latte. Almost ironic.
Then it could have been “Uncle” Luther, who believed magic wielders were blasphemous abominations from the devil -despite being a steadily growing population at that, and his dutiful wife, Maria, who unfortunately cursed their family by birthing a magical child.
But no, instead it was a cousin, Nicky, only a handful of years older than them, that took leave of studying with a Brooklyn Brujx Coven to raise them. Sure, he wasn’t the sharpest spade in the proverbial shed but perhaps he was so desperate for the family his own parents, Luther and Maria, failed to provide, Nicky stuck to them so hard, intentionally sharpened edges and all.
Or maybe because when he asked Andrew what he wanted that first day of parenthood, his answer of locks on doors and his own bank account was understood on a deeper level than just an angsty, teenager needing their space.
And perhaps Nicky did get it in a way.
Not that it matters. It didn’t matter then and it definitely doesn’t matter now, over two years later. Andrew doesn’t need all of this introspection and reflection as he plots out his next steps. He never thought he’d make it here, to eighteen, so now he has to actually think about what’s next after high school.
He sort of enjoyed traveling to clients and selling the plants his magic produced. And he’s certain it was good money too, even though he never saw a penny of it for the full three years. So it really is obvious what the next steps will be, what his choice is: go his own way, on his own time and make his own money, selling his magic for a good price.
He even improved his skills over the years under Nicky’s basic knowledge. Now Andrew can make more than just poisonous plants like poison ivy or hemlock ash bushes or extra sharp air plants, but more subtle changes like plants that drip acid during high anger tensions, cacti with sharp, knifelike needles, and vines that ooze a paralysis when its owner is on edge. He worked on these new projects, improving and perfecting them, as well as selling them on the side to fill his bank account. He knows traveling has a cost and refuses to let that be what holds him back from his first client, wherever they may be. At this rate, he will be able to buy his own car to travel around. Nothing will hold him back from this choice.
Nicky never finished his own magical studies and Aaron was a late bloomer, his magic manifesting in medicinal plants likely as an aftermath of his grief over Tilda’s death. Or perhaps from finally being clean. Andrew doesn’t pay that close attention to Aaron’s sullen moods.
They’ll both be fine without Andrew; they have their own lives to lead that don’t include him. Plus, they already have plenty of experimental protective plants from him, what more can he do for them?
In the weeks that follow graduation, Andrew feels like he’s simply killing time. For what? He isn’t positive, his magical abilities are dangerous plants, not seeing the future. He needs a job, a client, the start to the next stage in this ordeal called life. He’s already reached out to people who worked with him in the past, alerting them of his increased availability so now he just has to wait.
About a month into the stifling heat of summer, the first offer comes, a previous client reaching out to contract him for a bigger project out in New York City and even if it wasn’t on the same coast, it’s an easy yes in his mind. He’s not desperate yet but he didn’t hate the client and the project sounds similar to one he’s done before: outdoor plant protection for a home. It’s a no brainer, an ease into the full time career almost.
Making the time to tell Nicky and Aaron before organizing everything to leave that weekend might be the harder move. Might.
Andrew debates not telling them, it’s more of a formality in his mind or maybe out of some emotion for Nicky and how much effort he put into making their fractured pieces come together. But Andrew knows Nicky will be devastated if he isn’t told and Andrew really doesn't want to have to change his number to avoid the endless phone call complaints that would ensue. It’s the number he gives out to clients.
He decides he’ll shove the convo, more like a statement, in between his errands on the Thursday before he leaves, after he’s dressed for the day but before he goes to pick out his first, very own used car.
Nicky and Aaron are already sitting around the plant and dirt littered circular table, each working on their own magical abilities, when Andrew walks into the kitchen. He decided he’s going to keep this short to get it over with. He doesn’t even bother addressing either of them.
“I’m going to New York for a job.”
Only Nicky looks up when Andrew relays his news, something like joy in those eyes that pin him to the spot. Very rarely is he the reason for that look in anyone’s eyes but the majority of the time it occurs, it’s Nicky’s. It still throws Andrew every time. This time included.
Nicky nods once, barely suppressing a grin, fingers absently spinning around the black onyx rocks on the table. “Can I come with you?”
“Don’t be stupid.” Aaron interjects with a bored tone, not even looking up from his examination of a leaf from a bushy mint plant under a magnifying glass. It turned gray overnight, likely from poor pruning since Andrew hasn’t seen a single leaf cut off of it the past week and half of its existence in their kitchen. He keeps this thought to himself though. Aaron can solve his own plant related problems. “We’re all going - New York is getting new magical artifact centered exhibits I want to see.”
The black onyx rocks spin faster, fueled entirely by Nicky’s excited energy. “Oh! I can introduce you to my Brooklyn coven friends, help you make some connections with new hedge covens. I’m sure each borough is big enough to have their own you can join.”
“Good, maybe I can learn something new since I’ve exhausted all the knowledge from this county’s hedge coven.”
Andrew’s eyes flick between the spinning rocks and the plant under the magnifying glass, trying to figure out where he went wrong in his statement, which part of his communication did he leave out to make them believe he'll be there for any extended length of time to warrant joining a coven. Perhaps he was too vague.
“I’m not moving to New York. I have a client looking for new protections for their summer house. Then I’ll be off to the next paycheck.”
The rocks slow their spinning. Nicky looks from Andrew to Aaron back to Andrew.
Aaron shrugs, carefully cutting off the infected leaf from the rest of the plant. He tilts his head, looking at the mint plant critically before trimming back the plant even more to make it look semi ruly. “I don’t care as long as I get to visit the American Museum of Natural History while we’re in town - they have an exhibit on the deterioration of magical items over time and one is an elderberry tree that’s believed to be older than the U.S..”
Andrew narrows his eyes slightly, trying to discern if Aaron actually understands or is being dense on purpose. Before Andrew can speak up to repeat that he has no intention of settling down any time soon, Nicky cuts in.
“Well if you’re going to be traveling around a lot for your work, you’re going to need business cards for advertising and someone to handle inquiries and your customers. I volunteer to be hired for both!”
Andrew uses more muscles than he’ll admit to keep his face neutral, directing all his surprise to the foreign feeling in his stomach. Andrew never expected this, that they’d want to follow him, that they might see pieces of their futures with him in it, especially in places that aren’t here. He always assumed they’d do their government mandated time together until legal adulthood and go their separate ways. This catches him by surprise. Whenever he dared to picture his life as an adult, he imagined himself on his own with nothing but his plants for company.
Though, this moment here, this reality, is much different than the one his thirteen year old self thought he’d have anyway. For one, he’s alive. Two, he’s not in a foster home. And three, he has a lock on his bedroom door and a decent stash of money in a bank account with only his name on it.
Plus, he doubts they’ll stay for longer than a year or two before the novelty of traveling from place to place wears off. He only had a small taste when he was younger but he can see how fast food and cheap motels wears one down. He’ll tolerate them for however long they’ll want to stick around for, but he knows in the end it’ll just be him and his plants. He’s fine with that. Truly.
He shrugs. “You can come as long as you pull your own weight. We leave Sunday.”
The rocks on the table pick up their speed again, spinning even faster than before as Nicky’s entire face lights up. They’re getting dangerously close to Aaron’s potted plant experiments and Andrew would rather not be there for the collision. They were cleaning dirt out of the kitchen tiles for weeks on end last time an object mobilized by Nicky’s energy collided with a potted plant. Andrew turns on his heel and heads out of the kitchen, finished with his conversation now that he has to find a bigger hotel room for three bodies instead of one. Well, at least he won’t have to pick out a car now so he has more time to pack and prepare.
He still has one goodbye to do and he’s hoping it goes much better than this one.
Andrew isn’t avoiding his last good bye, no he wouldn’t do something so absurd that requires additional effort. And it’s not like he didn’t originally factor this errand into his last days in Columbia plans. He had to recalibrate his mind a little. It’s just the idea of Aaron and Nicky following, also leaving this place behind, hadn’t crossed Andrew’s mind. He didn’t think they’d all pack up and leave at the same time, he thought it’d be more gradual, one bird flying away from the proverbial nest of Columbia at a time. Now though, now it makes this goodbye seem more important, bundling together the three goodbyes into one big one.
He is certain that Bee would remind him that it is perfectly healthy and fine to leave home, perhaps even good for his development or some shit since this is a leaving he’s choosing, that he is planning for his own interests. She’d definitely say it's growth and important for him. And it’s not that he doesn’t think it’s fine, it’s not that he isn’t looking forward to the future, he just doesn’t know how this goodbye is going to go and he doesn’t want to handle anyone else’s emotions. That’s it.
It’s why it happens just as they’re leaving. After they pack their duffle bags, at least a dozen plants of varying sizes and magical affinities, snacks, and about twenty of Aaron’s books (because he doesn’t get car sick reading like the weirdo he is) into Nicky’s boring family friendly Subaru Outback, who smugly comments the entire packing time on how much space they still have and how that never would've been the case if they bought a flashy sports car such as the Maserati Andrew eyed at the dealership. Whatever. It’s not like he originally planned on taking them or even the family car and there is no way Nicky foresaw this travel-heavy career move over a year ago, thus leading him to buy the bigger car with better gas mileage.
Actually, maybe he did with his brujo abilities. Maybe he sensed the car was something they needed or whatever he says his magic does. Not that it matters. Andrew stands by his initial recommendation, for cramped space and all, they’d get to New York faster in it.
Andrew takes the first shift of driving. He's sure if he looks closely at the tingly feeling overcoming his fingers as he grips the steering wheel, it could be labeled as something like anticipation. Excitement even for the start of the future he decides and controls and sets is beginning now that he has no government mandated obligations to uphold.
But in actuality, an ass numbingly long drive and one last errand are ahead of him. Neither sound very exciting or anticipatory.
Instead of a left to get on Interstate 20 Andrew takes a sharp right, confusing his passengers. Aaron might even mumble something about cold feet but Andrew ignores any questions, complaints, or judgments as he drives through the downtown and familiar neighborhoods.
When he pulls up at his destination, they make a noise of understanding, their voices finally quieting down as Andrew gets out. He opens the trunk to grab the twelve inch peace lily in a bright, rainbow honeycomb ceramic planter. Its long, wide leaves are a shiny dark green and plentiful but there is only one white flower in the center, open wide. He takes easy, measured steps up to the front door like he has done dozens of times before and rings the bell once.
It only takes a minute, maybe two, for the door to open to Bee. She’s in well worn overalls, a long sleeve shirt, and house slippers with a red bandana keeping her blonde gray hair back: getting ready to do some yard work, her preferred weekend chore. He timed this perfectly.
“Good morning Andrew.” Her smile is calm as she takes him in, likely noticing his joggers and baggy t-shirt comfort clothes and the Subaru in the driveway. Her eyes linger on the plant in his hands for a moment, the corner of her lip raising in a small smile at the pot, before looking at his face again. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a Saturday visit?”
“For you.” He raises the plant in his hands. “I made it.”
“Oh?” She sounds genuinely surprised. He’s not sure if it’s from knowing the nature of the abilities his plants have or the fact he’s giving her something at all. She has a similar reaction every gift-giving holiday. “It is a beautiful peace lily, Andrew. I didn’t know you could make these.” She steps back, clearing the doorway. “Should we put it in the sunroom or the dining room?”
“Neither - living room.” He enters the familiar space of her house, rolling his shoulders. “It shouldn’t grow any more but the flower will close if you have an unexpected visitor.”
Her living room doubles as her office for her therapy sessions so it is a place she spends the majority of her time. It’s always been something Andrew never understood: how Bee could let damaged, trauma filled strangers into her house and not worry about them visiting unsolicited or unannounced for whatever reason. She always did the first three months of sessions off site but eventually she’d offer to continue the sessions at her home office or remain off site.
And Andrew was… curious. Of course he wanted to see what sort of place someone like Bee chose to live. There is something about seeing a vulnerable part of her, where she laid down her roots, that likely made Andrew feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable back, about himself and the shit he keeps locked up behind as many mental doors as possible. He doesn’t get how she could have that level of trust in any one, in him, which is why he wants to offer this.
“Protection in the form of a warning.” She echoes the basis of his thoughts, nodding her understanding as she follows him to the living room. “Do I need to do anything?”
“Hold.” He thrusts out the plant at the question and she automatically takes it in both hands. “I need to introduce your energies.”
He puts one hand flat against the planter, feeling the rough grooves of the honeycomb beneath his palm. He focuses on that as he pushes his magic into the plant again, sensing his latent spell like a loose, cut string with Bee’s own unique energy radiating on either side where her hands hold the plant. He simply nudges the string with his magic and it immediately goes taut, creating a connection to the peripheral energy through the magic in the center of the plant.
Bee takes in a sharp breath and Andrew’s eyes immediately flick to her with concern as he removes his hand. The spell is now activate and in place. Well he is fairly certain it’s activated now, he only tested it once and a much smaller peace lily plant.
“Did that hurt?”
“No, just surprised I could feel it.” She puts the plant down on the side table next to the couch, head tilted. “I have never felt magic before. It was like static shock.”
He’s never used his magic on himself nor has he ever allowed someone to do magic on him so he’s just going to take Bee’s word for the description of the phenomenon. He nods before turning, leaving the way they came from the front door. He finished what he came here to do: give Bee a little protection since they’re all leaving as a goodbye. There is no reason for him to be here anymore, no reason for why he should want to linger. After all, he has places to be, new things happening, adventure ahead and all that bullshit. This was the goodbye.
His eyes track over the walls of her home just the same, cataloging the hodgepodge of local art and her ridiculous glass figurine collections that grows every holiday or just because occasion, the bumps and dents from the first couple of scuffles between Aaron and Andrew in their preliminary joint therapy sessions. All these things make this place Bee’s home, a place he also feels safe, a place and a person he wants to protect.
As he passes the kitchen, his eyes catch on a familiar looking lush, round mint plant that sat on their kitchen counter for nearly two weeks under Aaron’s critical, careful care. Andrew never asked what the plant was for and Aaron never brought it up. Nicky, rather surprisingly never acknowledged it either, despite the plant being their fourth guest for dinner for all those days. Mint tea is one of Bee's favorites.
Huh. Maybe Aaron didn’t hate therapy as much as his silence implied.
Andrew knows if he looks a little closer in Bee’s house, he’ll even find a parting gift from Nicky. Andrew's eyes can't help darting around for it now. That’s how he notices the wilting herb garden in the window sill in front of the kitchen sink.
It was the first winter holiday gift they gave Bee as a collective at Nicky’s insistence. It was some DIY kit they bought off the internet, nothing magical about it, but Andrew knows she frequently uses the different herbs in it for her cooking. He doesn’t want to leave her some shitty, barely surviving plant they gave her. He gestures at the kitchen sink with his head. “Want me to look at it?”
It takes Bee a second to place what he’s referring to but her eyes catch on the pitiful, limp and yellow parsley and basil. She shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. “Oh no it’s fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I thought it was going to be a dry week so I double watered but I may have been overzealous.”
Overzealous is a nice way to describe her actions when even her scallions are drooping. Her outdoor garden does wonderful with Mother Nature in charge of most of the watering control but her indoor plants are much spottier on their survival rate with the most common cause of death being drowning.
He knows she’s being polite, not wanting to put pressure on him or make him feel like he has to do something he actually can’t do. Sure, he can make a plant appear out of thin air or embed magic in an existing one, but he’s never successfully made a plant grow more. It sounds so damn simple which is why it’s so frustrating that it seems to be a roadblock for him; he rarely even tries these days but he wants to do this one last thing for Bee.
He’s sure it’ll be some sort of poetic full circle moment too: something that’s eluded him the past five years of his life, finally feasible now that he’s starting his life on his terms after extensive therapy to tackle his trauma.
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to.”
And Bee knows that, it’s something they’ve discussed at length in their sessions. Untangling this fierce feeling of protection as an expectation, as a responsibility to his small family, versus his want to have the people he cares about safe.
A moment passes where Bee just watches him with that small smile on the corner of her lips. She eventually nods her consent, gesturing for him to head into the kitchen first. His eyes cast about enroute, still looking for whatever trinket or stone Nicky likely gifted her.
Nothing stands out by the time Andrew reaches the pathetic looking plants so he has no excuse to not focus on the task ahead of him. A task he volunteered himself for. The thing is, he knows Bee would never look down upon him if it doesn’t go well, backfires, or he just can’t get his magic to activate at all. She’s seen him at some of his worst moments, all ragged edges, short tempered and constantly rearing for a fight, resisting everything that might be beneficial or good or positive. Yet, she still invites him into her home, always has his favorite fancy hot chocolate in her cabinets for each of his sessions, and respects his boundaries.
He takes a deep breath in for a count of three and releases it for a count of three, like Bee taught him, clearing out the jumbling and lingering energy from earlier. He repeats it a couple of times, trying to center himself on this task, not the millions of other thoughts or memories crowding their way into his brain at any given second.
He knows magic folk believe their magical source lives in their heart area, between their lungs and protected by their ribs, like their magic is as vital as breathing or some bullshit. Andrew has never felt that way. His magic is this visceral thing in the base of his throat, just below his vocal cords. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t see it as this critical part of himself that’s necessary for his existence, it’s a part of him yes, but it’s his choice if he uses it, just like speaking.
Even though he’s never learned any verbal magic, he wonders if his would be more powerful due to where he feels it's stored.
He wraps his hands on the cheap plastic pot, resting his thumbs on top of the soil, digging them in slightly, an attempt to connect to the dirt or maybe ground himself? Who knows if this is the right route, definitely not Andrew. He huffs out a breath, easing his shoulders down. Again, he clears out his mind of the clutter, focusing entirely on the plants in his hands. He thinks about them growing bigger and sturdier; he imagines them healthy, tries to visualize how they would transform from their current sad state to a healthy one.
He maintains steady, even breathing as he imagines his magic flowing from his throat down his arms, through his fingertips and into the soil to the roots of the plants themselves and pushing the plant to grow taller. Nothing happens, not even a twitch or a flash of light. Despite his best attempt at concentration and glaring, the plants stare back, still and pathetic. He tries for another minute before he releases the pot with a hot huff of air.
So much for poetic full circle symbolism.
“I’ll learn to work with existing plants more while I’m gone, then I could come back to save any you’ve tried to drown.” His voice is flat, stomping out any disappointment at his failure. He tucks in a quiet, subtle request to be allowed back in the future.
“I would love that.” She smiles wide, hearing the request crystal clear. “Even if you don’t learn more, I’m sure the peace lily could be checked on when you’re in town next to ensure its magic is still in place.”
The corner of his mouth flicks up in a partial smile as he nods his agreement.
Suddenly, he foolishly realizes what this goodbye really is: he’s leaving and he doesn’t know when he’s going to see her next. There is no next session on the calendar, no known date of return to Columbia yet. Just the unending, unmapped future ahead. It shouldn't phase him, it should mean nothing. He’s never had someone whose unknown next interaction made him feel any type of way that wasn’t positive. He’s barely known her for two years and yet it does mean something.
And he doesn’t like that. Not one bit.
He abruptly turns on his heel and briskly heads out of the kitchen for the front door, ready to leave this goodbye and all the bubbling emotions far, far behind him. His hand on the doorknob pulls the door open roughly, making a rainbow sea glass windchime jingle when Bee calls his name. Instead of turning to face her, his eyes stay on the noisy colorful creation that he hadn’t noticed before - Nicky’s gift for sure.
“Andrew, we can still be in touch while you’re gone, if you want. This isn’t goodbye forever.”
Damn Bee and her perceptiveness on Andrew’s feelings. She’s always said she has no magical abilities but he strongly suspects she can read energies, it helps her be so good at her job. He tightens his grip on the doorknob. He has to know though if she would want that too or if it’s a nuisance, another maladjusted patient that clings desperately to the first semi well functioning adult, maybe parental figure, they’ve met.
“Wouldn’t that be a violation of our client-patient contract?”
“Well, you aren’t my patient anymore nor in the future so we no longer have a contract. And it doesn’t have to be formalized either, perhaps the occasional photo of the peace lily to show I’m keeping it alive.”
“It shouldn’t die even if you overwater it.” He responds automatically but the idea itself settles a restless whirlwind that was building in his chest. “Maybe I’ll send you photos of Nicky and Aaron to show I’m still keeping them alive.”
“A fair trade.” Bee chuckles and his lips turn up at the sound. “Thank you Andrew - safe travels and I’ll see you again soon.”
He nods his head once. “Until next time, Bee.” He doesn’t turn around as he leaves for he isn’t sure what he’d see and this is just easier. This is fine.
The car is pleasantly quiet as Andrew reverses out of Bee’s driveway, all three of them likely focused on the endless road and future ahead. It’s fine, nice even
Of course Nicky interrupts the silence less than ten minutes of being on the highway, sharply turning to face Andrew. “Wait, we need to come up with a brand for you - a business name!”
Andrew looks over out of the corner of his eye. He shrugs, indifferent to the concept. “Don’t pick something stupid.”
Which is how fourteen hours trapped in the Subaru and multiple arguments over the two day road trip later, a new company began: Foxglove Favors.
Having an affinity for plant magic but being unable to put roots down anywhere is a poor joke in the making - one Andrew is certain would come from Nicky’s mouth.
The thing is, Andrew’s not looking to put roots down, not yet necessarily. His work and his magic have called him all over the world, to bustling and quiet places alike with powerful and rich people to employ his abilities, but only if their needs suit him and for a fee of course, always a fee. The money is good and he doesn’t have to linger to make small talk with his clients; he just leaves when it’s over. On to the next client, the next project.
And it’s not like they don’t repeat customers or never visit the same city more than once. They return back to South Carolina most often out of any place, Palmetto specifically since Bee moved there six years ago.
The pace and constant motion of the job matches the restless energy lurking behind his intentionally blank façade, a study in opposites really.
If Andrew squints, he guesses he can see how Aaron tired of this lifestyle first. He started mentioning wanting to settle down somewhere, open his own store, make his own name with his own magic. Of course this brought back Nicky’s dream of doing card or energy readings in a regular, cozy place instead of randomly while they were on location for a job, like maybe even in his own nook of Aaron’s plant nursery store. So Andrew let Nicky leave too.
It’s not like Andrew didn't see this coming. He never expected them to even stay this long. He knew they’d leave eventually.
He hasn't missed them the past couple of months, how could he with Nicky calling nearly every other day? Apparently there are a lot of different intricacies in opening a brick and mortar business that Andrew needs to be kept updated on, like location, store size, store item supplies, and of course location.
Nicky also loves to pepper in anecdotes about the handful of staple characters Andrew became semi familiar with over the years by passing through for work as well as some “new cute friend” that just moved to Palmetto. This friend is referred to as new and cute so often that he thinks it might actually be their name: New Cute Friend. Andrew feels like he lives there from the regular and thorough updates, which he might think was the goal of Nicky’s rambling if it wasn’t well known just how much he loves to talk.
Sure, Andrew feels a little different doing this work on his own, not that Aaron or Nicky ever helped with the magic aspect of the work itself, but it’s different. Andrew hasn’t decided upon more than that, but it is already positive progress towards feeling identification. Not that the nuance matters. It doesn’t change the fact this is a life he chose for himself.
Still, he can’t let his twin and cousin venture out on their own completely unprotected. He doesn't trust them that much. Even with Nicky’s multiple attempts to confirm the validity of their protection runes expert, who came strongly recommended from his New Cute Friend. Andrew won’t let them open until he verifies everything himself. After all, it’s his company's brand too and Foxglove Favors will not have some second rate protection with his name associated.
Putting a pause on customer requests is harder than assumed with people seemingly upset they won't be seen for at least another week but that is their problem, not his. His protective plant magic isn’t entirely unique, over the years other people discovered ways to manipulate their magic to have a similar effect. Andrew is just considered “gifted” for his “natural talent” which means he is still the best and people want the best.
It also means he can charge them ridiculously for it too.
He has no idea how Nicky usually handled the customer aspect of the work beyond seemingly with ease and filling their schedules months out. Andrew's finding he hates it so his phone is off to stop the annoyances from communicating with him.
Despite the traffic and construction attempts to delay, Andrew makes good time in the Maserati and might still be early to meet Nicky. Not early enough to stop by the house but Andrew might be able to down a drink at the café before having Nicky buy the second one. Not that Andrew knows where their new house is, never mind seen it, but it isn’t the reason for his visit. He has priorities and seeing the new place Nicky chose, after Andrew agreed Columbia was too far from Palmetto to commute to and from every day, is not even top one hundred.
After giving his (unnecessary) blessing to sell the house and move to Palmetto, he didn’t want any part of the process. Aaron and Nicky could handle that just fine. As long as there was a room with a lock for Andrew and his stuff, he didn’t care. Nicky even tried to have Andrew visit in between clients for a sentimental goodbye to the Columbia house since it was their first house together, those four walls did hold in a great deal of ups and downs over the years - especially in the beginning. But he said goodbye to that house a long time ago, almost ten years ago, when they left together and started Foxglove Favors . He never looked back and never thought of it as home.
A thought that likely would depress both Nicky and Aaron if shared so Andrew keeps it to himself. He lets them carve out their own decisions and pieces of the world just like he’s done for himself.
It’s just about 10:30am on a weekday when Andrew finds street parking and is able to make his way to The Daily Brews which is perfect because there should be no line and minimal noisy people loitering about. The coffee shop theme is used bookstore meets paper newspaper, with eclectic second hand furniture, dark painted walls, white honeycomb subway title, and second hand books and plants littered all over. The menu design is a newspaper -not that people read it.
Andrew completed a couple of small projects for the coffee shop's owner, Matt, so Andrew knows the place, knows they’ll have what he needs, knows the magic is real. None of that flowery marketing bullshit. He even knows about the owner, too much if you ask him, because the dude tries too hard to be friendly. Nicky is half way in love with Matt but Andrew doesn't believe anyone that friendly doesn't have an ulterior motive. He just doesn't know what it is yet. Maybe it's discounts on future work. As if.
Ulterior motive or not, Andrew needs sugar and caffeine if his and Nicky’s relationship is to survive the afternoon. Matt will be able supply both.
The shop is fairly busy, definitely more people than Andrew anticipated for mid morning, but they're all sequestered to their own tables and corners. At least Matt is working and there's no line beyond another local, Dan, his crush or partner (unknown and unimportant), leaning over the counter to the side, chatting together.
"Andrew!" Matt practically bellows once Andrew's at the counter. He doesn't even have to open his mouth to pretend to order before Matt places a coffee cup down between them, topped off with almost as much whipped cream as there is cup. It's dusted with cinnamon and smells like chocolate and coffee and like everything Andrew didn't know he needed. "I should've known it was you when I just kept going with the whipped."
Andrew nods a greeting, grabbing the mug with both hands. He takes a delicate sip to not scald his tongue nor invite whipped cream up his nose and waste the precious fluffy, creamy sugary delight. It's still too hot to taste but he knows it's going to be acceptable based on Matt's previous concoctions.
His magic takes the form of knowing what people need or want without even asking, something about their energies or whatever. He’s mostly honed it to be for drinks of the café variety hence the creation of The Daily Brews. He even has a deal that if he gets the craving wrong, the drink is free and they can order whatever they actually want. To Nicky's knowledge, that’s never happened to Matt but his other staff don’t have the same magical abilities that Nicky’s divulged at least, so it doesn’t really apply to them. Except Seth. Sort of.
There might be an element to the magic about if Matt knows them, the range of his sensing is greater but he’s never said and Andrew’s never cared to confirm. But since his drink was mostly done by the time he stepped foot in the shop, it points in that direction. If so, it must only require a weak connection to increase the range because he’s never shared more than blank stares and the bare minimum to Matt’s endless questions.
Perhaps hearing about someone from someone else would strengthen that connection and Andrew knows there is no way Nicky hasn’t talked Matt’s ear off with tall tales of their travels or whatever. Well if it cuts down the wait time then Andrew doesn’t hate it.
“Seems like you need sugar and caffeine in equal measure today.” Dan remarks with a grin. “I counted Matt putting three shots of espresso in there.”
Andrew grunts his appreciation, moving slightly to the side where seats rest against the café bar for customers. He bites at the whipped cream, uncaring of his audience. He needs those espresso shots and the whipped cream is insulating heat in.
“So how’s it going? We haven’t seen you in what, 8 months now? Any cool plant requests from new clients?” A spoon appears in Andrew’s line of sight, extending from Matt’s hand.
Andrew takes the spoon for it will be easier and faster, not because he thinks his pride needs saving. “No.” He responds before taking a big spoonful of whipped cream into his mouth. He’s here for the caffeinated sugar, not small talk. He doesn’t live here. He’s not interested in the nosey small town life were he knows what his neighbors are up to and they know about him. It sounds highly unnecessary and tiring.
“That makes sense - it’s probably less cool to you since it’s your job.” Matt begins moving around behind the counter, likely sensing the need for another drink. “Nicky told us about that one client that wanted their own magicked version of a secret garden, where the hedge opening would close once they entered and become thorns-”
“Not thorns, poison sumac.” Dan interrupts to correct, as if Andrew needs that, as if it wasn't himself that implemented the request.
Matt waves his hand. “Yeah I know, I’m talking about the original request. I know Andrew convinced them to change their mind for him to fulfil the request because roses wouldn’t hold up as well in the climate. I just thought it was so cool how you were able to apply some of the magic you previously used from creating a moving maze-”
The blender turns on, presumably from Matt’s doing, and it makes it even easier to tune out his highlight reel of Andrew’s latest projects. He consumed all the whipped cream so instead he spoons the chocolate coffee concoction directly into his mouth. It’s almost cool enough to just drink straight but he enjoys the small sips, making it last at this temperature before it becomes too cold to be consumable.
His eyes do a slow scan over the café, checking in on his plants to make sure they are still healthy and working as expected: the caladium by the back kitchen door whose leaves turn vibrant pink when a customer enters and no one is behind the counter, the canna on either side of the front door whose gradients change if someone enters on or with magic uppers, an illegal drug that can enhance one’s magical abilities at the cost of being highly addictive. Matt didn’t want it anywhere in his space. A very specific, new type of request which is why Andrew was recommended by Wymack.
Andrew didn't bat an eye at the first time request for he understood it. Addiction isn’t something that just goes away because of some therapy, treatment, and strong enough will power. It alters the brain forever and some days are fortunately easier to manage than others. Attempting to eliminate the source of a wired craving is probably one of the biggest ways an addict might try to become clean and stay clean.
After Nicky unknowingly committed to the guardianship of two people with enough childhood trauma for a small city, he didn’t sleep the first couple of nights, buying and reading all sorts of self help books for parents with kids from the foster care system or with addiction. Once he finally passed out on the couch after his panic fueled knowledge absorption attempt, Andrew read some of the less flowery, more scientific books on addiction.
Even though Nicky never said it out loud, Andrew knows the first year was filled with self doubt, regret and the crippling fear that Nicky was doing more harm than good in their trauma filled lives. The house had walls but they were thin and sometimes the sobs weren’t so held in. Getting them all in therapy was probably as much for them as it was for him.
Andrew picks up his mug but pauses mid raise in shock at the pitiful sight on the other end of the counter. He’s almost embarrassed he didn’t notice the sad state of a plant when he first walked in but caffeine was a higher priority and clearly it’s kicked in. The eighteen inch tall tree with five entangled trunks is sagging over, something he highly suspects is not normal, and all of its leaves are yellow like the plant was forced to bathe in a pot of water for a week straight and no one made the effort to rescue it. Well clearly still no one has taken pity and just thrown it out since it’s still occupying prime eye sore real estate on the counter. He’s fairly certain it’s supposed to be a money tree but it’s so pathetic he isn't even certain of that.
“Look who decided to grace us with their presence.” A new voice remarks half sarcastically as they enter behind the counter. Andrew recognizes this voice easily so he resumes drinking while still looking at the plant. Ignoring Kevin will rile him up more than greeting him ever could.
“Oh Nicky swears a dying money tree is not a bad omen.” Dan must’ve noticed the focus of Andrew’s attention. The blender stopped and he can hear her laugh as if this is some shared, inside joke and not an ugly, dead tree.
“What does Nicky know?” Kevin scoffs, causing Andrew to refocus his gaze. He continues to drink his coffee but raises an eyebrow to encourage Kevin to continue on his rant of choice today. “It’s not like he’d ever tell you if it was. I'm sure when the shop opens he’s just going to give positive spins on all his readings because he doesn’t want to hurt people’s feelings.”
Dan huffs from next to Andrew and he shares the sentiment. He knows Nicky likes doing readings, small talk, connecting with people, and everything human interaction-y Andrew actively avoids, but Nicky magic is different from Kevin’s, it’s more vague and based on glimpses of a person’s energy.
Kevin is not only a seer but his mother was one of the most gifted seers of her time. His visions are clear and will happen, no matter what. It’s the ambiguity around Nicky’s vision and the energy that make him hesitant to share negative glimpses, fear of the receiver making a harmful decision based on his interpretation that is much more likely to change.
What Kevin fails to recognize is that for the same reason, Nicky never shares overly positive readings either.
Andrew’s eyes flick down to Kevin’s hands, not surprised to find him wearing his gloves but it just angers Andrew more. He puts his cup down harshly on the counter to interrupt whatever counter argument Matt started. “Hypocritical coming from someone that still wears gloves so they don’t use their magic.” Kevin clenches his gloved hands and tightens his jaw at the call out but Andrew’s not wrong nor done. “If you feel so strongly about it, why don’t you do readings at the shop? To ensure there is balance or whatever you claim to care about.”
This Kevin might be lifetimes ahead of the literally shattered Kevin that Andrew met five years ago when Wymack called for a fast favor of protective plants to help a guest stop having a panic attack every time the doorbell rang and maybe fall asleep at night for more than a handful of hours, but Kevin still holds himself back.
Friendship is a strong word for the bond between Kevin and Andrew but he understands Kevin’s fears, the all encompassing anxiety that stems from knowing someone is still alive that did personal harm. He doesn’t really do small talk either, it’s all or nothing for him. His nearly single minded, passionate focus makes him a bit prickly which Andrew appreciates for its genuineness and how little effort is required on his part to engage, at least when the focus isn’t directed at him. Kevin’s hyperfixation on magical artifacts, initiated by Wymack’s meager collection in his bookshop, has no intersection with Andrew’s abilities in his mind, less so in Kevin’s.
Still, in all that time he’s never mentioned intentionally using his magic (nor has Nicky) despite how much less afraid and more obnoxious Kevin’s become over the years. Andrew’s just pointing out the blatant fears that still hold him back. He knows Kevin will just brush off the challenge with a cranky attitude and half mumbled excuse about the dangers, like all the other times he's done so in the past.
“Maybe I will.” There is a spark of something in his eyes, something that isn’t usually there and Andrew doesn’t even hate it, even though he didn’t see this coming. Well, it makes sense since sight isn’t one of his abilities.
Matt interrupts their mutual stare off. “Oh Nicky's ears must be burning.”
The bell above the door rings as someone sneezes. Nicky’s bright voice carries effortlessly across the place. “What are you doing here Andrew at The Daily Brews in little old Palmetto?”
His smile is wide and delighted. He stops about a foot away with arms open wide, angling for a hug. Andrew doesn’t move, granting silent permission with the knowledge it’ll be brief. Nicky’s smile only grows as he steps in to squeeze Andrew tight and quick. Perhaps the surprise is genuine.
He replies blandly. “We agreed to meet here.”
“I know but you didn't respond to my three check in texts and my five phone call attempts to confirm went straight to voicemail so I wasn't positive!” Nicky hugs Dan, blowing kisses to Matt and Kevin from the other side of the counter like a foolishly friendly human. Nicky looks ridiculous but both Matt and Kevin wave their greetings back like this is commonplace. Which it might be now for all Andrew knows. “Also, it just makes me happy to see you here.”
Andrew narrows his eyes at that comment, unsure what is trying to be conveyed - is a guilt trip coming? He doesn’t like that one bit. Luckily, or not, Kevin’s blunt voice cuts in. “Nicky, I want to do readings in your new store.”
It’s not even a question, it’s a statement of want in classic Kevin single minded focus. Andrew knows Nicky is a pleaser to his core but even this behavior must aggravate him, he’s been wanting his own place to conduct readings for years but didn’t pursue it out of some misplaced loyalty Andrew never asked for.
Nicky’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open slightly. “Wow, the Kevin Day is going to start doing readings again after a five year hiatus in our little store.” His voice sounds almost awed and Andrew didn’t realize Nicky held any sort of fanboy feelings for Kevin. Nicky whispers more to himself than anything, “This is going to be so good for business.” Okay, so maybe it isn’t stars in his eyes but rather publicity and dollar signs. He grins wide. “Sounds great - we’ll work it out with Aaron.”
Kevin for his part also looks a little surprised by the minimal resistance. He nods. “I’ll tell him when I see him later.”
Nicky opens his mouth but his eyes catch on something over Andrew’s shoulder, causing a reset. “Wait, Neil isn’t back yet?”
“No.” Matt replies with actual sadness in his tone. “He should be back today and then he can deal with the money tree.”
“You should’ve thrown it out - it’s probably bad juju.” Kevin mutters.
“No!” Matt and Nicky shout at the same time.
Andrew watches the exchange passively before his eyes flicker to the pathetic plant. He wonders just what this Neil character is going to do that makes Matt and Nicky so excited. Hopefully put it out of its misery.
Dan’s magic might be water based and not be telepathy but she’s too perceptive. “Neil has a plant affinity.”
“He can even bring any plant back from the brink of death! We call him the necromancer of plants.” Matt tacks on proudly.
A completely new voice speaks up. “Who calls me that?”
Kevin, Dan, and Nicky respond in unison. “No one.”
“I do!” Matt defends. Their responses deflate him slightly, he mumbles to himself. “It just hasn't caught on yet.”
Andrew didn't hear the doorbell signify this newcomer but as they step around Nicky, Andrew looks over to log which of the locals arrived. Except he doesn't know them and he would know them because he's immediately struck by how ridiculous they look in a well worn gray hoodie and light washed jeans, both covered in patches of dirt. But that isn’t even the most ridiculous part of them, it’s their dark marigold orange hair and Caribbean blue hydrangea eyes. An absolutely absurd combination that has Andrew thinking of cliché flowers and how it's far too good of a color palette to be legal.
They turn to look at him with sharp eyes, seemingly taking in the newcomer as well. He sees the wide scar on their upper cheek just below their eye. He wonders idly what sort of weapon could leave that mark for there is no way it was an accident. Its location is too public and the mark too clean to be anything short of a message. They catch his eyes and smirk to the side in a way that pulls at the scar, like they know it's caught his attention and are not shying away from it.
And in a bizarre change of life experiences, the acknowledgement makes them even more attractive to Andrew. Well that’s new. Fuck. What is going on?
They, presumably Neil, turn their attention to Matt. They sigh deeply but their voice is fond. “I swear you only keep me around because you can't keep a plant alive otherwise, never could in college either.”
Matt huffs his objection and Dan must roll her eyes hard because it's practically audible. Andrew isn’t positive, Neil has captured his full attention, he needs to catalog all he can about this stranger before they disappear like the pipedream they likely are.
Neil puts their hands in the soil of the money tree, digging their fingers in. Their face scrunches in concentration as if they are feeling for something, looking for something. They pull their bottom lip in between their teeth, eyes fixed steadily on the plant in front of them. For a few seconds nothing happens and no one says anything either but suddenly, the plant rights itself again, straightening and growing another six inches before shedding all of its yellow leaves and immediately growing even lusher and more numerous green leaves. Suddenly, the tree looks revived, alive and beautiful. And it didn’t take a minute of concentration or even any prep work.
Andrew logs this confirmed attraction to competency and ability, cataloging a little harder.
They pull their hands out of the wet soil and look at Matt. “Stop killing plants, we’re friends. You don't have to create tasks to make me feel needed and want to stay. Trust that I’m here because I want to be.”
Matt’s voice sounds slightly watery. “‘Working on it.”
“Andrew! This is my new cute friend I keep telling you about: Neil!”
Andrew looks from Neil to Nicky and back, feeling slightly like Nicky really is up to something with all his rambling but unclear what. It’s likely trivial so the thought is pushed aside. Privately and internally, Andrew bitterly acknowledges that New Cute Friend isn’t a terribly inaccurate name.
For their part, Neil looks equally surprised at the statement, likely because much could be unpacked there. They physically shake it off as they offer a dirty hand to Andrew. “Nice to-”
He ignores the hand and unnecessary pleasantries, cutting to the point. “How did you do that?”
“Huh?” Neil looks back at the taller, bigger, and much healthier money tree plant on the counter. They shrug as if it’s commonplace. “It’s just kinda my magic.”
“No shit.” His tone is flat from annoyance because they make it sound so damn easy but it never has been for him. “You didn’t make a plant, but revived it and made it grow.”
“Wait, I thought you also did plant magic hence…” Dan gestures vaguely to Andrew’s plants in the shop. “Isn’t making a plant grow just inherently part of that skill set?”
He gives her an unimpressed look. He already forgot they had an audience. “No.”
Her entire face lights up. “Oh! Maybe one of the beginners magic classes we’re doing at the bookstore could help.” He narrows his eyes at the concept, crossing his arms across his chest. The closest he’s ever been to being formally trained was by Nicky when he was desperately trying to connect with them when he first came into the guardianship picture. “They're more elemental based but the general principles likely apply and I've been trying to convince Neil to teach a couple of classes. I’ve always said we should cover more than just the elements - this is the perfect opportunity.”
“I don’t have the temperament to be a teacher.” Neil remarks in a matter of fact tone, clearly aware of their limitations.
This barely dims the hopeful light in Dan’s eyes. Undeterred, she shrugs. “I think it’s something you could work towards.”
“I disagree too.” Matt echoes.
Nicky chimes in with a faux sage voice. “I sense potential.”
Andrew looks to Kevin, the only one from their entourage to not contribute yet. He shrugs. “Neil has talent that’s for sure, whether that means he can teach others, less sure.”
Andrew rolls his eyes, refusing to let Neil get dragged into something they don’t want to do for something he didn't ask for. “No, I don’t want lessons. I’m here to help finish setting up the store then I’m leaving again for my work.”
Nicky’s shoulders hunch forward slightly, clearly disappointed by the reminder. “Yeah he’s just passing through.”
“I could still try to share a thing or two while you're passing through.” They speak up for themselves and it catches Andrew off guard. Again.
What is this trend today of people throwing him off balance? Something really is afoot, making him feel off balance. He has a sneaking suspicion that something is the competent marigold, hydrangea arrangement in front of him.
He feels like he needs to regain his footing, find stable ground. He circles back to the original statement. “I thought you didn’t have the temperament to be a teacher.”
“Apparently I have potential.” Neil shrugs with a playful smirk that absolutely does not make something take flight in his stomach. Nope, it’s likely from all the sugar and caffeine in his empty stomach. “You could be my first -a trial case.”
He meets his gaze head on, trying to understand what is happening here and how the attitude of this attractive, talented stranger has already changed. What would they gain from this? Are they mocking him? If they are doing this to make a fool of him, he doesn’t care. Regardless, with or without this ability, his business is very successful, with a plentiful savings account to back up his talent. He thinks it over, running through different scenarios as the quiet grows between them. They don’t twitch or shy away from his gaze and it just draws him in a little more. Perhaps he has more cataloging to do.
“Sure. You’ve got two weeks.”
If Andrew thought their smirk was attractive, he was not prepared for a full on smile with teeth. Their attractiveness is definitely illegal levels or maybe just the right frequency for Andrew levels which should be illegal. Their smile is cocky. “Plenty of time.”
Ultimately, in Andrew’s mind, the worst case is he’ll further catalog tidbits about someone he finds attractive but learn nothing, best case, he’ll further catalog tidbits about someone he finds attractive and learn how to grow plants with magic.
There are no real losses in either case.
Maybe Nicky was right, maybe the money tree’s pitiful state was a good omen after all.