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Jeremiah had just slid a pie into the oven, closing it as he heard the knock on the dor. Wiping his hands on a towel, he tossed it over his shoulder as he went to answer the knock on the front door. It was a rare day off during the week, a three day weekend for him no less, to relax and not fret.

To try and not let his thoughts get the better of him. To focus on something other than- The thoughts were pushed away for the moment.

He was still dressed for the colder weather of winter as he pulled open the door and then smiled. His head tilted inwards for his son to come inside. "You're a little earlier for the pie I just put in but I'm glad to see you stop by, Zac."

"Jammie Dodgers?" Jeremiah chuckled. "I haven't had any in awhile even with the care package Bob sent from England." He took the package and held it in his hands, a thumb brushing over the labeling. "Ah, if you'd like to try them, I've a couple tins in the cabinets. They're tasty but no, not as tasty as these or the strawberry pie I just put in."

Since he had asked and as he lead Zac to the kitchen the smell was obvious. There was also a bowl of strawberries he had not used but cut up as well. "You know you didn't have to bring anything," he told him, taking the tea and setting it down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

At hearing that Zac had moved in with Autumn, he looked a bit relieved. "That's good, I think the two of you living together is good." He meant it, honestly, that the two of them looking after each other would be a good thing. Especially since they were both involved in other ashdown and he was not sure that Wil and Nasir and whomever the other roommate was were.

Heaven help him if Wil was in on any of this.

"Zac ..." Jeremiah came over after sitting the things down, pulling him into a hug because he could and because Zac was his son. "You look good." He meant the outfit but also that he looked healthy and like he was doing well. "Algie is comfortable. It has more to do with everything that's happened - other ashdown - than anything to do with you."

But that was a conversation that was likely best between Algie and Zac.

"Oh? I've been working on magic in other ashdown. Getting a better grasp on it." Jeremiah's head tilted towards the stools for Zac to have a seat and show him the book. Releasing the young man, he went to get a bowl for Mogget and some treats for him. "A journal, at this point, is probably a great idea."

"You can't trip anything up, Zac, not anymore than I have done. In fact, he much prefers talking about things as opposed to just letting them sit. It is the worst thing that can be done." Speaking some recently personal experience here but he would let it go.

"... and I appreciate these, I really do. It's been years since I've been able to go back to the manor or visit." Which mean they really were a comfort to see and have in his possession. He was opening up the box and sliding a few onto a small plate and setting on the counter after a bowl was set up for Mogget.

Milk with a dash of cinnamon.

"Whenever you want to go over and do something, just let me know, alright? It's what I'm focused on at the moment - to get a better handle on magic. We are going to likely need to have a handle on it sooner rather than later." A hand was raked through his hair, coming down to rub at the side of his neck before he was going to the stove to put the pot on to boil.

"You've seen Autumns antlers, haven't you?" Especially considering she lived with Zac, he would just assume. "I would assume that it's something going into your journal. The changes we have after becoming involved?"

"Well, if you want to go after I take the pie out of the oven in a little more than an hour ..." Jeremiah raised an eyebrow because he could if Zac truly wanted but he figured his son was mostly jesting.

"Moonwalkers," he supplied, "is what they're called so I've been told. Which does sound far more polite than werecreatures." Though it did highlight the fact that they were, more and more, walking down a path that was entirely supernatural. Add in Autumn's antlers and his-

"She isn't the only one with that kind of change. Hers is just obvious all of the time." Jeremiah pulled the hand towel off of himself and hung it on the handle for the stove. The tall detective was moving to close the curtains in the kitchen and darkening the room.

"Then I'll happily show you, Zac." Jeremiah meant it, raking a hand through his hair again and snorting at the question.

"Not so much that something happened as ... there was a change after Blackfriars." He paused a moment before adding to cut Zac off in case his mind whirled to what he said next. "And I don't mean like I'm a moonwalker now or anything." The detective lieutenant moved around the kitchen, touching his son briefly on the shoulder, before he went to flick off the lights.

"So far as I can tell it's just progression, Zac. The more we're involved, the more we find ourselves changed." Jeremiah turned, his eyes purposely held shut a moment before they opened back up. In the half-light, it was easy to see the way they glinted differently. As if they glowed, not unlike Mogget who was still drinking his milk. "It's not harmful at all, probably helpful in the long run but a bit of an annoyance all the same."

"No, it's not. I can see in the dark as easily as I can see in the daylight, though sometimes bright lights in my eyes bother me." Jeremiah shrugged. "I assume it's just ... I already was seeing the veil between here and other ashdown," never mind catching bits of magic here and there, "that this is just another step up but it isn't, honestly, the main change."

The detective gave Zac a look at saying he wasn't good. He did not have to say anything, his look said enough.

"I don't know why we've failed. I've not caught wind of any reason why yet but if I do, you'll know." He shook his head. Jeremiah truly had no idea why they had failed so much. This was the nineteenth time that they were attempting it. How many times had some of them been caught up in this? It couldn't be every time, could it?

Jeremiah moved over and opened up a drawer, a sharp paring knife pulled out. "However, as I was saying," the light was flipped back on in the kitchen, his eyes back to blue-green and not that oddly reflective color, "the eyes are the obvious change not the only."

His hand was held out then, where Zac could see it, and the paring knife pressed into his fingertip. It should have cut his skin immediately, blood should have welled up, but instead when he pulled it away there was only faint red mark.

"No, I don't heal," Jeremiah held his hand up for inspection, the knife tip slid across his palm. Again there was just a quickly fading red blemish. "More like damage resistant? Thicker hide? Dragonhide? I don't know how to put it. I've not found anything that can actually hurt me now but I don't know that I want to find out what the extent is of what I can take ..."

The paring knife was put up, Jeremiah letting out a huff of breath - a sardonic half-chuckle. "I found out because apparently a book in Algie's hand is a deadly weapon; they actually seem to get harder and heavier if he intends to swat with it or the like. He chunked one at me a couple nights after Blackfriars and it should have hurt but it didn't." A hand was rubbed across his forehead in remembrance of the injury that hadn't happened.

"I feel like this is progression. The more involved we are, the more we explore the other side, the more we immerse ourselves in this ..." The kettle whistled and he turned to turn the fire off and pour them both a cup of tea. Zac's was slid in front of him, Jeremiah sitting next to hm after he made sure they both had something to snack on as well. "The more we change. What bothers me is that-" The older man let out a breath, his expression hard to read. "What are we losing in these changes, Zac? If you took my eyes out, would they look like a human's? How much of our humanity is lost to this?" It was a concern of his, one he had seldom given voice to.

At the mention of failing, he shook his head and turned to fix his tea. "I feel like failure is the end; we die. The cycle starts again. Whether it is these lives again or it's reincarnation, I've no idea." His spoon was stirred in his cup, just a dash of cream like always. "Just because we're adept at magic, at what we can do over there, does not mean we're any more capable of solving this or figuring it out. If anything, it may mean we're less so. The more we think we know, the less we really do." The spoon was set down.

"At least we both know that in other instances you have obviously been a ward of mine." If the portrait in the Shore estate was anything to go by. "... but our ties, our relationships, they probably vary from iteration to iteration. This is the nineteenth time, I doubt it's the same each time." Which was a terrifying thought.