It was late, but Devon had flown – literally flown – back to Haven in order to keep his meeting with Artair. He’d had sessions most of the day and into the evening at the Havens on Perot Island. Hoping to have his meeting there, Devon had offered to ensure they’d have a dinner ready too. The minute he’d suggested Artair coming out to Perot, the Scotsman had shut him down and hard. It was impossible, apparently. But meeting at Haven? That was fine.

Devon sent out the meeting invite for his office and had only arrived at his penthouse a few minutes before rushing down. He and Artair hadn’t spoken enough lately; Devon hadn’t really spoken to many within their private group lately. Work had been his focus and work it was, keeping him busy before dawn if he wanted to take a jog and then long after nightfall. There’d been more than a few late nights, reading reports, case studies, or even a late night jog. Eventually the nightmares would go away and he’d sleep normally… It was simply a matter of reminding himself that those were hallucinations he’d witnessed. Those monsters weren’t really there when he’d flown into their dark portal, crazed and eagerly flinging lightning in hopes to hold back the tide long enough that others would rally.

Artair had been at one of the other locations. Devon wanted to be sure he was doing okay, and it sounded like there was something else going on. They needed to catch up on Haven affairs anyway. By flying here Devon could ensure they had a couple hours to review, make a plan, and then he could grab a car to Sanctuary to check on the budget for the holiday festivities.

Devon’s office was all glass though it could shade individual walls to allow privacy or dim the light pouring in. Otherwise, it offered a nice view to the adjoining meeting rooms, the hall, or out over Central Park. He had a plush chaise, a leather sofa, and a couple chairs he’d picked out from a reclaimed furniture shop on the west side. His desk was black, blocky, and hid the view of his feet though he wasn’t one for sitting unless he had something to review on his computer. It was really more of a formality he had this office, but it and the small bar allowed for good meetings with Haven’s membership.

He sighed, falling back into his chair as he turned around to gaze out the windows. A black turtleneck hugged him but provided that extra warmth he didn’t need but still found comforting of late. Lights dappled the street and greenery of the park-

Devon jumped when he heard the elevator. He hurried away from his chair to the bar, pulling out a couple waters and placing one on the desk while he opened the other. Blue eyes looked out in the hall for the darker pair of Artair.

Artair would have vowed never to drink again with the hangover he was nursing but he was well aware how much of an empty gesture it would have been. Following a rather classical Scottish approach to his issues had taken it's toll and he was definitely feeling worse for wear. Nearly two months solid of hard drinking had given him permanent black bags under his eyes, eyes more bloodshot than they had any right to be and a scowl which was one part headache and two parts his real mood showing through. All in all, he'd not had the best time since Halloween.

In all fairness, he'd not only seen his biggest fear he'd lived it again. Twice. In one day. Sure, it might not have been real, true he hadn't actually drowned on dry land but that didn't stop how it felt. The water he'd felt in his lungs had been real, or real enough for him at least.

His self destructive spiral had raised eyebrows though, Jack obvious saw him enough to figure out how much booze he'd been downing and now Devon had his suspicious. At least enough to want a meeting, even offered to fly him out to some private island. Not that flying was even an option for him given his experiences, Christ he had barely been able to leave Manhattan Island itself, every time he tried his breathing tightened. Enough that he'd passed out on one occasion.

Watching the floor indicator with a mix of resentment and irritation he was soon arriving on the floor that house Devon's office. When the doors finally slide open he was confronted by a very nice floor. Not only was it the big mans office but a comfy looking meeting room and a damn good view out of the park. "Y'awright lad, how've you been keeping?" Artair tried to keep the exhaustion out of his voice but it was a fair chance he failed. Spectacularly. But hey, maybe the trained psychologist wouldn't notice all the very obvious signs he'd was exhibiting, or the more un-cared for state of his appearance. Since he hadn't shaved in maybe more than a month and was wearing old but comfortable clothes he must have been a bit of a sight.

Crossing the floor slowly, he moved to take in the view before sitting down. Something about being so high up made Central Park look so.....small. "Hell of a view mate, can't imagine getting any work done up here with that out your window."

Finally meeting Devon's eyes he could already tell it was going to be a slightly less casual talk. Sighing heavily before he slump down in a comfy chair opposite he changed his tone a bit to a more formal one. "So, what is it you're wanting to see me for?"

“Perspective, mostly,” was his whispered initial reply as he glanced back over his shoulder and out the windows.

His attention quickly returned. “I’d say gazing out over the park is nice for some perspective,” he nodded, growing even-toned. Devon’s eyes were wide at the surprise of seeing Artair in such a state, but he paired it with a warm smile. “I thought it’d been too long since a meeting. But really I’d like to talk about Halloween. It’s good to see you, but I feel maybe I’ve taken too long to ask how you were…

“I’d like to know what happened there at your location. I’m documenting all the details,” he said gesturing at his computer on the desk before sitting there. “We’ll compile and then send out to those of us working on such things or to those that were involved. It was trying for me and well, I’m not going to pretend and I doubt you’d want me to: you look ragged.”

His eyes narrowed, brow knitting together as he licked his lips and then clenched his jaw. It was beyond clear something was very wrong and Devon had had his suspicions before he’d even seen the Scotsman. “Hopefully you expected I’d want to discuss that and to help you. Would you rather begin with the details of the event or what’s specifically impacting you?”

"I'm good, considerin' what happen that night." The simple fact he could get up proved that much. A rational look back at the events could tell his mind none of it was real all it wanted too, it didn't change anything. He'd felt it, seen it, tasted it all and no amount of evidence could shift the small stupid part of him that clung to it. "You? If what I saw was any indication you didn't exactly have a picnic dealing with the other lass."

Seemed about right, information on that event was few and far between and Christ did they need to learn how to fight a threat like that again if it ever came knocking. "I'm sure you got a decent amount from you're cowboy friend but aye, I'll add what I can." Chuckling a little at the bluntness he raised an eyebrow, "What, I'm not my usual sparkling self?"

Sighing and knowing he wasn't getting away from at least divulging some parts of what was bothering him, he was at least getting the report out the way first. "Fine lad, I'll talk but lets get the formal s---e out the way first." Rather than add anything that had happened to him during that night he just stuck to as much of the facts as he could remember. "It was around six or seven so still plenty of little'uns out with their parents getting sweets. I was heading to a party, a weird darkness swept outwards from the park, you know the usual freaky stuff."

He detailed the events quickly, the people who'd investigated and what they'd looked like. Which wouldn't help at all since they were all in costume but at least it was something to work with. "No names though. None of us felt like giving them out, especially not the lass with her kid."

"After that pretty much everything went downhill. We only moved to the centre of the park because the lass' bairn was drawn there away from us. Of course more than just hers had been, must have been a good thirty or more of them surrounding the woman. Best damn shield she could have made agaisnt me." Hard to deal with a rogue mutant with a human shield in the way. Much less one made of children. "She'd messed with their minds, turn 'em into guards to keep us away while she worked on ours. Far as I can tell everyone was hallucinating in someway, some worse than others. After that, well s--- I honestly don't know what was real."

Cosmic horrors descending from the sky, black tentacles writing around and dragging them down, even the sea had broken over them. "Texas lad will probably know more about the actual fight, I spent most of it being tossed about, either by one of us or the giant monstrosity that I'm even sure was there. We got her though, somehow. Even saved the kids, a few cuts and bruises but they got away pretty much unscathed." A warm smile touched his lips while he spoke. If there was ever a redeeming quality about that hell, that was it. "We suffered more to be honest. The mother was out cold and I had 3 broken ribs to add to the collection. After that, I haven't a clue. You're lad took care of the clean up a while I found the nearest bar and gave Doc a ring."

>> "I'm good, considerin' what happen that night."

Devon gave a relenting smirk and nod. He had him there. Not all faired so well after. Celeste was one example as were the numerous human bystanders.

>> "You? If what I saw was any indication you didn't exactly have a picnic dealing with the other lass."

Devon nodded quickly, “Oh certainly true.” He was pleased at least for Artair’s humored chuckle. Once many months ago now he’d told Devon he preferred the blunt, direct approach and it’s what he expected of friends. That was good, and the fact he didn’t rankle at it said even more for his well-being.

Artair went into the details as best he could, so it would seem. Devon typed along quietly, jotting down quick notes. A party interrupted, children trick-or-treating and distracted. He nodded along; they hadn’t exchanged names either. This had moved along rather fast. Of course he and Celeste had briefly called out to one another.

A shield of children. God, those poor kids. Their garage had been absent of children. It was adults leaving or adults parking for a nearby event, no little ones at play. It turned his stomach and that was evident by the grimace on Devon’s face at the mention. He sighed and nodded at the comments of hallucinations, disturbed reality.

Thankfully they saved the children even if they’d fought the denizens of the beyond as well. He did need to speak to Ranger, get his full details like this and not simply the quick report. No doubt Noel was spending time with him, but Devon couldn’t let Noel’s feeling compromise the man’s headspace if he needed help. Devon nodded along and almost smiled, thankful for the reminder from Artair.

Devon sipped his water as he briefly glanced over what he’d taken down on the screen. Then he pushed the screen aside, “Thank you, I’m sorry if that was difficult to go through again. And thanks for reminding me to speak with Mr. Hunter.” He sighed once more, “I’m afraid our experiences were much the same, save for the fact there weren’t children.” And there was far more property damage thanks to him; Devon frowned anew.

“If we can, let’s talk about what’s specifically creating a challenge for you,” he looked the Irish man up and down again in an appraising manner. Artair looked tired, disturbed, even drunk rather than energetic, fit, and handsome. Did the creatures haunt him too?