Chapter Text
Robert ‘Hob’ Gadling yawned as he pulled out his salted and iron key unlocking the large lock on the front of his antique shop. The shop had been in his family for generations, and it had changed very little over the years. It was a double fronted building set on the outskirts of a village in what had once been an old blacksmiths shop. There was iron in the very foundation of the building and that was perfect. The only real change that had happened when Hob had taken over control of the shop on the retirement of his father, was the witch marks being carved over the door and into the cornerstone of his building and they were a very recent addition.
It was only March and there was still a lingering chill in the air that cut through the coat he was wearing and he would have been glad to be inside his shop if it had been any warmer inside but the fire hadn’t been lit yet and so that was the first thing he did. It took him a few tries to get it going but eventually there was a merry blaze going and he could start the rest of the day.
Ignoring the seemingly menacing whispers that were coming from some of the items that weren’t yet on display Hob whistled a jaunty tune making himself a cup of tea while setting out another cup in hope that his friend would be here sooner rather than later. His friend…He didn’t even know if they were friends, he hoped that over the months that they had been working together they were more than acquaintances but his friend was unreadable rarely speaking about himself if he could help it, still Hob was never accused of not being an optimist and he could happily smile.
Unfortunately by the time he had finished his first cup of tea his friend had still not arrived and the sunlight was coming in through the wavey windows of imperfect glass. His friend rarely came during the daylight hours and Hob knew that he wouldn’t see him now until the evening. He picked up the metal chest of oddly whispering artefacts and carried them into his office in the heart of the shop so he wouldn’t disturb his regular customers who came for a history lesson as much as to look at his collection of antique curiosities.
He was polishing an old warming pan when the bell above his door tinkled and he smiled with genuine happiness when a family of American tourists came asking questions and poking around a bit. Ever a sociable creature Hob was more than happy to keep them talking for as long as they wanted and he even managed to sell a few things that they probably weren’t expecting to buy. He walked them to the door and then grinned as more tourists came. It was regular flow though he was caught a little surprised when half way through his lunch a coach tour showed up and a gaggle of silver haired grandmas and grandpas were excitedly talking about items they remembered from their youths.
The day wound down slowly and by five o’clock he was more than ready to flip the sign on the door and close the thick curtains to prevent anyone else from coming in. In his office he looked at the box of whispering artefacts almost sure he wouldn’t be seeing his friend at all today. He was disappointed and he reached out to touch the lid of the box only for a sharp pain to fill his hand an otherworldly deep voice to sigh.
“You shouldn’t do that, Robert Gadling, unless you wish to lose your hand” He turned his face spreading with more happiness than he had felt all day. Standing in the doorway to his office was his friend, tall and slim with chalky white skin and jet-black hair. He was wearing all black, as he always did, with the only spot of colour being a blood red ruby on a chain around his neck. His hair was a ruffled nest on the top of his head and Hob wanted to smooth it out with his fingers. “Good evening”
“Evening, Morpheus” Hob breathed his voice squeaky as he shook out his hand and motioned for Morpheus to come in.
“Sorry that I could not make it this morning I was in the middle of something…” Morpheus hummed lightly walking over and awkwardly standing next to Hob’s desk his eyes focused on the box. Hob was about to ask what he was in the middle of hoping to learn more about his mysterious friend but sadly the man was already reaching for the box. The items inside had hushed their whispering now and Hob could somehow tell they were afraid “What have you gotten yourself into now, Robert Gadling?”
“Just some bits and pieces, better here than out in the world where somebody could get hurt by them” Hob answered with a shrug not wanting to admit that he had purposely scoured forums and fringe websites daily to try and find items that he could buy and bring back so he could have Morpheus come here.
“I suppose but you should not put yourself in harms way Robert” Morpheus said his eyes still focused on the box and Hob felt his lips twitch.
“Aww, Morph’, you almost sound like you care…” He said his heart skipping a beat when he realised he had said the words aloud. Morpheus pulled his eyes away from the box his eyebrow curving up his forehead. He didn’t say anything for what felt like an age and then when he did speak it was in the softest of voices.
“I would not like it if you were injured or killed…It would be destressing for me, Robert, I will take care of this…Perhaps you would like to leave now?” Morpheus suggested and Hob swallowed a thick lump positive that there was some genuine feeling in the words. Sadly, Morpheus was already looking at the box again and their moment, if it had been a moment, was gone.
“Can’t I stay?”
“I would rather you did not…The cleansing is never a nice thing to witness, more so for…A non-witch” Morpheus paused carefully choosing the word to describe him and Hob chuckled glad that was the one he had settled on.
“Alright, you do your thing…Would you like a cuppa?”
“Yes, please, Robert, with…”
“Five sugars…Yes, I know” Hob chuckled again shaking his head as he left the office and closed the door his heart dancing and swirling with the usual kind of happiness that came from having his friend so close. Life never went the way you expected, Hob thought as he put more water into the kettle and switched it on. Last year he would have scoffed at the thought of magic, much less curses and witches and now he knew they were real and it was beyond all sense. It had been his friend Johanna Constantine that had first introduced him to the idea…Back when they were in Uni together, but he had always thought it was fantasy rather than reality. Then he had found his first cursed item at a house clearance, god that had been a nightmare and a half he could remember it as though it had been only yesterday…