Chapter Text
He certainly hadn’t meant to start an informal paranormal community network of aid and protection in Portland.
Really, honestly. Despite what his sisters said afterwards.
These things kind of just happened to Hank.
Story of his life really.
——
Backtrack several months.
Here is Hank Pines, twenty two and fresh out of Oregon State with a BS in Computer Science in one hand, and the key to an apartment with his girlfriend in Portland in the other.
He hadn’t moved back home, like Willow had. She was running the Library now, as Grunkle Stan couldn’t keep up with it anymore, and was using the Shack as homebase for her own paranormal investigation agency.
He hadn’t moved close to home, like Acacia. She and her girlfrie-no, god, wife¬, Reina had moved to Bend which was thirty minutes away. They were renting a trailer in town they called the Love Shack; Acacia painted, and Reina did people’s taxes.
No, he was three hours away, further from home, from his sisters, than he ever had been before.
It was absolutely terrifying. It was exhilarating. It made him want to curl up in a ball some days because he missed Grunkle Stan and Uncle Dipper and Mom and Dad and the girls so damn much.
But it was nice, nice to get a feel for himself as Hank Pines, not Hank the brother, or Hank the son, or Hank the nephew.
It also helped that he was here, doing this with his girlfriend, Vivienne Chen. And he couldn’t even complain about distance-she had come to Portland by way of San Diego.
It had been Grunkle Stan, of all people, who backed Hank’s plan.
“Listen kid,” he told Hank one day when it was just the two of them at the table. “Seventy years ago me and…and your great-grandfather came out here from the Bronx because we were looking for adventure and wanted to make something of ourselves. I get it kid.”
He reached over from his wheelchair and clapped Hank on the shoulder.
“You should do it.”
So even though being that far from Acacia and Willow felt like ripping his heart out, even though Mom sobbed on his shoulder for fifteen minutes, he called Vivi and told her that yes, he would move in with her in Portland.
Uncle Dipper, once they had negotiated some space between them, took it surprisingly well.
(that being said, as he was saying goodbye to everyone and got to Uncle Dipper, his uncle had looked at him with probably the most…alien look on his face Hank had ever seen on him, before solemnly taking Hank’s face in his hands and kissing him right between the eyes.
That probably meant something, damnit, but Uncle Dipper would never tell him.)
Three months in and everything was going…good. Really good actually. He had found a tech job that didn’t make him work crazy hours, and Vivi was teaching kindergarten at the nearby elementary school. Every other weekend Uncle Dipper would either take them home for the weekend or home would come to him and Vivi (the first time he took his mom to the knitting shop down the road, Motherknitter, she actually passed out from joy).
He was making a life of his own and it was nice and-Hank really didn’t want to say normal because he hated that word (years of being referred to as “the normal one” like he should be ashamed of his family). But he had a routine, he was making a name for himself at his job, and he was living with the woman he loved.
Hank forgot, however, that life is change.
——-
It started when he went to take the trash out and he ran into the gnomes.
They weren’t like Jeff and his crew back at home, all attitude and slight bumbling incompetence and really glossy beards. (He had spent many hours with his sisters when they were small running amok with the gnomes and he didn’t realize until he was nine why they called Hank “little prince”)
No, the three who were rummaging in his trashcan were almost skeletally thin, their beards patchy and their clothes ratty.
They tensed as if to run away and Hank spoke.
"Wait! Wait, I won’t hurt you, I promise. Are…are you guys hungry?"
The three exchanged wary looks and the tallest of the three, who looked like a Jerry to Hank said, “Yes?”
Hank decided to take a chance. “Wait here about five minutes and I’ll come back out with some stuff.” (He wasn’t going to invite them in yet, not until he knew them better. Gnomes were like vampires in that regard.)
He went back in the house, hoping that they would trust him even though their past experience probably told them not to, and wait while he made them some of his mom’s famous Catwiches.
As he got the mustard and meat and cut the bread (saving the scraps as well since gnomes weren’t picky) Hank realized he was really upset. He had read in the daily paper advice on how to get rid of gnomes from your house, like they were raccoons or, or, animals.
To be fair, Hank thought as he went back down the stairs, gnomes could be hella annoying and cause problems. But there were better solutions to make sure gnomes stayed away rather than-and he began to shake with anger-laying out rat poison and traps.
He made it back to the landing and thankfully they were all three still there.
Hank put the plate of Catwiches down and the three of them jumped on it like drowning men.
Hank sat on a cleanish spot of ground next to them and waited for them to finish eating before he extended a finger. “I’m Hank, nice to meet you.”
The brunette gnome, who Hank had pegged for the leader, warily took his finger and shook it.
"Hey Tall Dude. I’m Jerry, and this is Rick and Zebulon." Jerry took a deep breath (because manners didn’t come easily to gnomes). "Thanks for the food."
"No problem. Hey, um, are there any more in your troop?"
Jerry started, as did Rick and Zebulon. “You know about our kind,” Rick said.
"Yeah, a bit," Hank replied, rubbing the back of his head a bit.
Zebulon and Rick looked at Jerry, who In turn was looking at Hank intently. Jerry’s eyes flicked up to Hank’s forehead for some reason and his breath sucked in for a second.
Jerry finally said, “Yeah, in the sewer.”
Hank nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave some food out for you guys every-” He did some quick math in his head. “-every other day. Enough for you and your troop.”
Jerry’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”
"If other people show up hungry you don’t drive them off. And you let me know so I can have food enough for everyone."
Jerry had an incredulous look on his face, so Hank sighed, picked a scab on his thumb and held it out to Jerry. “On my Name and on my Blood.”
Jerry looked at Hank’s thumb. “You really mean this?”
"Um yeah-are we going to shake soon or do I need to pick another scab while you decide."
Jerry grabbed Hank’s thumb and shook.
"Deal."
(Two weeks later there were four troops of gnomes, a band of pixies, and a murder of crows who came out every other night and Hank had to explain to his highly bemused girlfriend why he needed to purchase a 40 pound bag of rice and an industrial rice cooker)
———-
Vivi and Hank were eating lunch at their favorite diner when a woman walked up and sat in the bench across from them in their booth. She wore a floor length, dark green, silk dress, had long black hair and eyes so deep brown they may as well have been black as well.
She also was soaking wet.
Hank moved Vivi’s purse off of the floor and on to the bench for her, as his girlfriend, always quicker on the uptake than he was, cocked an eyebrow at the woman.
"Can we help you?" Vivi asked.
The woman stared at Vivi, then at Hank, and then down to their clasped hands on the table.
"It seems I will need to include both of you. Very well. Tall One, I need your help."
Hank started at the title that the Dinner Crew, as Vivienne had taken to calling the people they fed, had given him.
(He almost had laughed to Uncle Dipper last week that he finally had a title like him and Mom and Willow but Hank caught himself. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell everyone about this yet)
"I need my skin back."
Hank was about to point out that he couldn’t see muscle, bones and organs when Vivi, the English Lit major, interjected.
"Who took your fur?" Vivi asked. Her question spurred Hank’s memory. Oh. The woman in front of them was a selkie. That made far more sense. Also explained the persistent dampness.
"My ex-girlfriend. I tried going to the police but even now, after the Transcendence, they don’t understand. They think I lost a simple fur coat, they won’t listen and meanwhile Myrna has…has the audacity to wear MY skin-I can feel it on her and-"
A single tear tracked down the selkie’s face.
"It’s okay, um-?"
"Oonagh."
Hank smiled. “Nice to meet you Oonagh, even under these circumstances. Though, um, how did you hear about me?”
Oonagh, more collected now, sniffed and tossed her hair a bit (splashing the three booths behind them with salt water).
"I heard it from the gnomes that you have a good heart and see more than most. I usually don’t trust those little fuckers any further than I can kick them but they don’t give compliments easily and their trust even less so."
Oonagh looked up at Hank’s face. “Will you help me?”
"What’s in it for us?" Vivienne interjected.
"Vivi!"
"Hank, I know you want to help but-" and here she turned to the selkie.
"I want a guarantee that you aren’t going to fuck us over or you’re leading us into a nefarious trap or something."
Oonagh nodded. “Your girlfriend is wise, Tall One. I swear on my Name that I mean you two no ill will nor am I wanting anything else but to get back what is rightfully mine.”
Oonagh thought about it for a second. “You feed a lot of beings every week-I’ll make sure there is always fresh fish enough for everyone, for as long as you feed them.”
Vivi and Hank looked at each other, then back at Oonagh.
"What do you need us to do?" Hank asked.
Thus, seven hours later, Hank and Vivienne found themselves outside the back of one of the most exclusive steakhouses in Portland. They were both dressed in sensible black and Hank had the ring on his thumb at the ready.
(It was a present from Uncle Dipper when he turned 18. To outward appearances, it was a plain silver band on his left thumb. Only Hank and his family knew that a drop of blood on the ring would call the baseball bat Hank’s mom made for him-coated in barbed wire and glass and symbols of banishing and binding-to hand. Or that the inside of the band had his uncle’s symbol engraved on it)
They were waiting for Oonagh to come before enacting the next part of the plan. Hank looked down worriedly at Vivienne, shivering in his arms from the November chill.
"Vivienne, are you sure you want to help? If we get arrested, you could get fired."
Vivi looked up at Hank indignantly (no small feat as she was 5’1 to his 6’7). “Hank, it’s fine. Also someone needs to look after you and make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
Hank grinned. She had a point; he had the height but Vivi had eight years of boxing practice under her belt and frequently sparred both at the gym in town and with his Mom when they were together.
Vivi shifted. “I am worried though-we didn’t get enough information from Oonagh before we agreed.”
Hank winced. Yeah, Uncle Dipper would lecture him seven ways to Sunday if Hank needed to call him for help to get out of a mess.
"I mean, why us? Is there any other reason for Myrna to have taken the skin? Why can’t she just jump Myrna in a back alley by herself and-"
"Myrna has found," a voice came from the depths of the alley they were waiting in.
(Vivi later vehemently denied squeaking and jumping in Hank’s arms).
Oonagh stepped next to Hank and Vivi, dressed in black, comfortable clothes like they were, and kept going. “Myrna has found that wearing my skin makes others perceive her as more attractive, more witty, more charming.”
Oonagh dropped the bag she was carrying to the ground. She knelt to open it and began rummaging through it. “As for why you? I am alone in this city-we had just moved here. I have no one to turn to, and I have heard well of you Hank, like I mentioned.”
She pulled out a-oh my god that was a switchblade. She must have seen the looks on their faces, because Oonagh finished by saying “And the reason I haven’t tried anything myself is because Myrna is the High Priestess of the Cult of Kla’taru and as such, always has two lackeys attending to her.”
Hank, who had been taking a drink of water from his bottle, did a spit take.
Both women looked at him as Hank stared at Oonagh in disbelief.
"The Cult of Kla-and you didn’t think this woman was complete bad news? Seven branches have been busted by Unc- the police for human sacrifice. Seriously, what the fuck?"
Oonagh gave Hank a death glare. “My morality is not your human kind-do not dare to judge me by it.”
A beat and then Oonagh suddenly looked very sheepish. “Um, also she’s really hot and good in the sack.”
"So what is the plan?" Vivi interjected, before Hank and Oonagh could get into it more.
"I can deal with Myrna but I need someone to take care of her guard-that’s where you two come in."
She looked at them. “Can I trust you two?”
Hank and Vivi nodded.
"Good. Because they’re coming out now."
They looked to the back door where two men who could not be more stereotypically “meathead” emerged, followed by a-true to Oonagh’s word-absolutely gorgeous blond woman. A woman wearing an absolute mass of seal fur on her shoulders
Hank was expecting from what he had gathered about Oonagh for the selkie to have some absolutely classy yet truly bone cutting remarks before they engaged in battle.
However, Oonagh chose to reveal her Californian roots by yelling in the most Valley Girl accent Hank had ever heard, “OHMYGAWD YOU LIKE, TOTAL BITCH!” before unceremoniously launching herself at Myrna. The two began to roll on the ground, yanking hair and attempting to gouge the others eyes out.
Myrna’s lackeys tried to go and separate the two women but there Hank and Vivienne stepped in and made almost disappointingly quick work of them: Vivi with a jab to henchman one’s stomach and a head butt when he was bent over in pain, Hank with a few smacks of his bat on henchman two.
They turned to where Oonagh and Myrna had been fighting only to find despite Oonagh’s best efforts, Myrna had gotten the upper hand.
The blonde was on top of the selkie, a well placed knee to the chest keeping her down. In one hand she held Oonagh’s skin and in her other hand she had found the time to cast a spell to bring fire to her hand.
"I liked wearing your skin lover," Myrna said, voice dripping with poison. "But in the end I don’t need it nearly as much as you do. How much longer can you go on land? It’s killing you, isn’t it?"
Oonagh spat in Myrna’s face in response and Myrna used the selkie’s fur to wipe her face off. Her pretty face turned ugly with the force of her grimace.
"Okay. This isn’t fun any longer. Goodbye Oo-ACK."
Hank had snuck up and simply plucked the fur from Myrna’s hand. Myrna leapt up to go after him but Vivi was there to deliver a one-two punch to the stomach.
Myrna glared daggers at the three of them from the ground as Hank handed Oonagh her skin.
"I don’t think you are truly aware of the power I have at hand," Myrna hacked out from the ground.
"I think I am, actually," Hank said, leaning on his bat. "I just don’t think much of it."
Myrna opened her mouth but then seemed to really look at Hank for the first time. Her eyes bulged and the color drained from her face. She scrambled to get as far away from him as possible. “No…no…no,” was all she could manage to squeak out. Myrna managed to get to her feet and ran off, crying, into the night.
Hank looked at Vivi, who shrugged her shoulders in response.
He turned to Oonagh who was also looking at him strangely.
"Are…are you going to be okay?" Hank asked gently.
Oonagh’s eyes flicked to his forehead before she answered him. “I was going to name you the Kindly One,” she said, “but I think the Burning One suits you better. You burn so brightly afterall.”
"Ummmm…"
Oonagh smiled, and tiptoed up to give Hank a kiss on the cheek. She then turned to Vivi and gave her one on the lips.
"Thank you, both of you."
Oonagh turned to go, but before she was out of sight, she turned to look over her shoulder.
"Also, neither you nor any of your kin ever need fear the water again."
She grinned.
"Later bitches."
Vivi and Hank watched her go, standing in silence.
"So….that just happened," Vivi managed to get out.
"Yeah. I think we need some ice cream."
"Good plan Hank."
———
“How’s it going little cousin?”
Hank looked out the window, to where two pixies were having a hair pulling fight that he knew he would have to take care of in a minute. Downstairs he could hear Jerry trying to hog some food for his troop and that would have to be dealt with in a second as we. Also, he was trying to surprise Vivi with a cake and the cake was currently on fire.
"It’s good Wendy."