Disclaimer: Do not OWNNNN~!

Warning: guyXguy lurvin', mild language, a splash of violence, and some adorable fluffiness…

Author's Note: FIRST RATED M! I keep coming to the rated M section, only to find her unbelievably empty. Which made me sad. Because this couple is so cute. It reminds me muchly of Spander. Anyways, hope yalls enjoy :).

Dave had the worst of luck. Really, honestly, he did. It was as if he carried around a jar of pennies he'd picked up face down. Or like the Lucky Charms guy came jigging off his morning cereal box and issued a curse of Forever-to-be-a-ButtMonkey. Seriously. No joke. His life sucked. It sucked bad. So bad, in fact, he was sure the whole "Prime Merlinian" thing was just a part of his over active, hyperactive imagination.

In Dave's book? None of it happened. There was no way he could've been that cool. No way. If he had been cool, then Becky wouldn't have dumped him the second they returned from their little France outing. She would've been in awe of him, and would've stayed with him because he was an awesome sorcerer. Instead, she had awkwardly looked at everything but him, words quivering on her lips, afraid to leap out into the air. Though, really, she didn't have to say anything after she jerked away from the kiss.

She'd looked so distraught. Why had she been so distraught? Dave groaned, burying himself further under the covers on the small bed in his shared apartment. She'd had such a look of pity on her face. Like 'Oh, I'm sorry, the adrenaline had me thinking backwards. I actually don't like you like that at all'. All it took was that emotion painted on her face, and he understood. He'd seen it before.

So, if someone he believed was interested in him as much as he was into them, only to have the truth smacked upside his skull—How could he believe in all the magick that had occurred? How was it even possible to fathom that a complete and utter loser like himself had had such abilities? That was when he'd decided that it couldn't be true. That he was simply crazy and none of it was possible.

"Dave, I'm goin' out!" Bennet called and Dave heard, but he didn't bother to muster a response. "The pack loves you, man!"

"Yeah, yeah…" He muttered against layers upon layers of cloth as he heard the door click shut and lock from the outside.

After a few moments, he finally tugged down the blankets and stared up at his ceiling with bleary eyes. He lay there, limp and in a zombie-like state, just blinking tiredly up at the cracked drywall. He swallowed slowly, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed to the brim with sand and cotton. Not a pleasant mixture. He willed himself to look at the clock on his nightstand, and glared at the red numbers heatedly—until it suddenly burst into flame.

Flinging himself from his bed with wide brown eyes, he darted around his apartment, looking for a fire extinguisher. Where had Bennet put it? Why had the clock randomly combusted? He was starting to panic until he found the shiny red can; then he started to freak. Gripping the giant ass extinguisher, he held on tight with both hands as it dangled precariously a few inches from the ground, and he wobbled back into his room.

He was fully ready to put out the flame when something did it for him. He frowned at his undamaged alarm clock, and licked his dry lips as he tilted his head in question. It only took him a moment to realize he was just going more crazy.

"Dave," A familiar voice said from behind him, and he jumped, falling back onto his mattress with a cloud of dust floating up from impact.

Coughing, Balthazar stood there, eyebrow quirked curiously. Dave just stared, wide eyed. He had to be hallucinating. Had to be.

"Dave," His mentor—Correction, imaginary mentor said, looking around the messy room with a frown. "Where have you been? Just because you can do magick without your ring doesn't mean you get to skip out on training. In fact, it means you need more training."

Balthazar gestured to the clock as an example, and Dave shrugged meekly with a half-cocked grin—That was, until he remembered this wasn't supposed to be real. Then he shook his head, covered his ears, and sealed his eyes shut so tight he was sure they'd be stuck that way.

"Dave?" Balthazar tried again, not understanding his student's strange behavior.

Dave was mumbling something as he rocked back a forth on his old, lumpy bed. It took the Master Sorcerer getting closer to make out the 'not real's and the 'this isn't happening's.

Sighing, he shook his head. Something must've happened. Grabbing Dave by the wrist, he cleared his mind and concentrated. Within seconds there were in Dave's much cleaner lab instead of his pigsty of a house. Feeling the sensation of cold stone beneath him, the college boy yelped, coming out of his denial position to find Balthazar kneeling before him, a soft, comforting smile on the man's face.

"It's real, Dave." He said. "It's all been extremely real. And I understand your confusion. I'm sure it's a lot to deal with—killing off Morgana le Fey. It wasn't easy. And all the power you've unlocked inside of you isn't just going to go away. It's scary. I understand—"

"But you're not real!" Dave tried once again. He wasn't sure whom he was trying to convince. The illusion or himself.

"But I am, Dave." Balthazar said patiently, apparently having some sort of previous experience with this. "I'm real. You're real. Veronica is real—" He gestured over at the woman standing to the side, her hands to her mouth with worry, "Morgana? Real. Horvath? Also, unfortunately, real. All of it happened. All of it is real."

"…Mannn," Dave groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "But I don't want it to be real, anymore."

"Quis est verus est verus," Veronica spoke softly into the den, taking a few steps forward until she was next to them.

Soon, she was crouching down, too. Her hands hovered, ghosting across his face without ever really touching him. He could feel the magick. He knew it was real. He just didn't want it to be. Finally, she smiled, placing her hands on either side of his head, and leaned in to press a kiss against his forehead. Balthazar let himself fall back, sitting parallel to his apprentice with a faint smile.

"You are a blessing," She said with a heavy accent, pulling away, and sitting back on her heels. "A true blessing from Merlin, himself. You brought me back to my Balthazar. You destroyed Morgana. You brought Balthazar back from the dead. How can you believe that none of it happened?"

Dave sighed, a blush staining his cheeks. " 'Cause… Becky, kinda, broke up with me."

Balthazar bit out a sharp guffaw. "Is that it?"

" 'It'?" He cast a glare at his teacher.

Holding up his hands in surrender, he chuckled lightly, and pat his boy on the head. "It's a part of growing up, Dave. Someone else is out there for you."

Dave sighed again.

"Etiam," Veronica cut in with a blindingly comforting smile. "This Becky person was obviously not your…"

Veronica frowned, the English language still new to her. Turning to Balthazar she tilted her head, raven hair cascading down her shoulders. He looked back; ready to answer any questions his love had for him. Ready to stop the world for her.

"Quam operor vos narro 'Animus Materia', Balthazar?"

The older man looked shocked for a moment, laughing lightly before speaking for her. "Soul Mate."

She smiled again, turning back to Dave. "You will find your Soul Mate, David. I saw it in the stars last night."

Dave blinked owlishly at her before glancing past her at Balthazar. "Is she for real?"

Balthazar shrugged, still smiling. She did have the power of prediction. He didn't doubt she was telling nothing but the truth. The only problem—and it wiggled at the way back of his mind—was the form in which this prediction would come. Strange things happened when Soul Mates were involved. Balthazar and Veronica knew that for certain.

"Did we not just establish that we are 'real'?" The woman asked in slight confusion, looking to her lover for input. He simply smiled and nodded.

Dave shook his head, sniffing lightly, still pouting at the loss. He'd really liked her. She was pretty and had those eyes… Sighing, he hauled himself up and dusted off his palms. Balthazar stared up at him, simply waiting for Dave to make the next move. His apprentice gave him a look, gesturing about with a funny expression on his face. Veronica tried to muffle her giggles when Balthazar simply blinked and waited some more.

"So," The young boy shrugged, tucking his hands into his back pockets. "What happens, now?"

Balthazar grinned, getting to his feet. "I thought you'd never ask."


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