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Chapter Text

It was never my intention to get wrapped up in any of this, but I needed the money. Rent had just gone up, again, and if not for this job, I wasn't going to be able to make it this month. 

I clutched my coat tighter around me. It was cold tonight, autumn becoming winter, and I needed all the warmth I could get. 

It was an easy drop off, brown paper bag crinkling between my fingers. I was tempted to see what it held. Drugs? A gun? 

But that wasn't what I was getting paid for. My job was to deliver the package, not to wonder what it was. Besides, my roommate had already warned me that these were very dangerous men. 

She had bitten her lip, gauging my reaction carefully as she told me. "So. . . my boss needs a package delivered." 

"So?" I asked, cracking open a can of soda. "You've made plenty of deliveries before. What's the problem?" Her hesitation had given me pause, and I looked up at her incredulously. 

"You're fucking kidding me." 

"Please don't be mad!" She flinched as I reminded myself to calm down. "He said that he needed someone else to do it. Fresh blood, or something. And I know you could use the money. . ." 

She trailed off as I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Fine." It wasn't the first time I had dropped something off for her. At least it paid well. "Date and time?"

"Ah. . . that's the thing." She looked down at her hands, fidgeting wildly. "It's tonight." 

So I'd ended up in a back alley at eleven at night, paper bag in hand and specific instructions in mind. 

I checked my watch again. It was almost time. I was supposed to knock on the door twice at exactly 11:02 pm. 

I took a deep breath, watching the seconds tick down. I was unusually anxious. It was just another delivery, and it wasn't like I'd never done this before. Give them the bag, take the money, and leave. 

I forced myself to take a step forward, followed by another and then another. The rusted metal door loomed over me like a threat, and I felt a laugh bubble up in my throat. What was I so afraid of? 

I knocked, twice, just as the instructions said. For a moment, there was nothing, a radio station playing only static. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if I'd gotten the address wrong. 

Then, the door creaked open. Inside, it was pitch black. The darkness beckoned for me, reaching out spindly arms to grasp at my mind and pull me under. 

I followed it. The hallways were dark, barely lit, and I found myself stumbling throughout them, my eyes refusing to adjust to the near lack of light. "Hello?" I called into the quiet darkness. "I have your package." 

There was some kind of swift movement behind me, disturbing the air, and I whirled around to face whoever it was. The space was empty. I turned around again, feeling another rush of air from the opposite direction. 

For the first time since I had taken this job, I felt true, cold fear. It was like being dunked in a bucket of ice water in the middle of winter, freezing my veins and slowing my reactions. 

Yes, I had been warned of the dangers. Yes, I had heard the stories of the couriers that had never come back. But I had needed the money and, in my desperation, forgotten to calculate the risks. 

"H-hello?" My breath hitched slightly. Whoever it was already knew I was here. There was no point in trying to hide. The best I could hope for was to deliver the package and get paid. The worst that could happen. . . well, I didn't even want to think about that. 

I closed my eyes in the dim, dingy hallway, taking in the scent of must, water, and old cardboard. I memorized the scent, calming myself and steeling my nerves. I opened my eyes to a pair of green ones boring into them. 

"Boo." Their owner said, and even in the darkness, I could tell he wore a cheshire grin on his face. He laughed as I jumped, a high, staticy, sound, which only unnerved me more. 

I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. "Don't scare her too much, Anti. After all, she is our guest." I flinched at the contact and the impossibly cold fingers that gripped my shoulder. What a strange name, I thought idly. My mind was running away from me again, and I forced it back to the task at hand. 

"I. . . I brought your package." I held it out to the green-eyed man, and his eyes sparkled. He seemed to be watching my every reaction to him, currently fixated on the way my mouth moved. 

"We heard." He replied, not making a move, as far as I could tell, to take the paper bag from me. 

Cold fingers brushed against my hand as the man behind me leaned around to take the paper bag from me. His skin was pale, almost ashen, as though he had never seen the sun before.

"Ah. Perfect." He said. His voice was calm, even, a sharp contrast to Anti's high pitched, broken voice. 

"What did they give us?" Anti asked, far too excited. He was almost like a small child about to receive candy. 

"See for yourself." The icy male said smoothly, tossing the paper bag to him. Anti caught it easily, peering inside. He inhaled deeply, sniffing whatever was inside like a dog. His face lit up in childlike glee, but as he looked up, I could see that his eyes were hungry. 

He pulled out two bags of dark liquid, a little too thick to be water, which sloshed around the inside of the bags. His fingers twitched, denting the plastic as though he could barely restrain himself. 

"Run away, little girl." Anti whispered, flashing me a grin. "You'd do well to forget what you saw here tonight." 

"We will leave the money with your employer." The other man said. "It would be wise for you to leave now, before you learn something you'll regret." 

Something was inexplicably off about the whole situation, but I wasn't sure that I wanted to stick around to figure it out. I brushed the cold hand off my shoulder and left. 

As I reached the door, my blood ran cold. A high pitched shriek, almost human, rang through my ears, and the man's words ran through my mind. "It would be wise for you to leave now, before you learn something you'll regret." 

What secrets could they possibly be hiding? What sort of clandestine things could be hiding in the dark of the seemingly abandoned warehouse? 

I wrapped my arms around myself, once more clutching my jacket to my body. Sure, maybe the chill I felt was simply from the plummeting temperature, and the shivers from the crisp night. 

Either way, whatever was going on here simply wasn't my business, and I wasn't going to stay to figure it out. 

Chapter Text

They stood there in silence for a moment, waiting for the girl to leave, before Anti tossed Dark one of the bags of blood. 

Dark examined it carefully, turning the bag over in his hands and weighing it. Meanwhile, Anti had already ripped his open with his teeth, greedily drinking the blood inside. 

"Careful." Dark cautioned. "Don't waste any." 

"I know, I know." Anti's voice crackled. "It's 'expensive'."  

Dark glared at him as if he was nothing more than an annoying speck on his otherwise pristine suit. "It is expensive, Anti. Not that you would know, since you don't pay any of the bills." 

Anti scoffed. "Well maybe. . . if you wanted me to pay for things, you should have made me more than a glorified hitman!" As he grew angrier, his eyes turned into solid pits of tar, deeper and darker than any void.

For a mortal, this would have been terrifying. They would have been trapped inside the demon's gaze until he drew his knife and ended their pitiful existence. But as it was, Dark was no human. He stood there passively, watching Anti's rage. 

He arched one sculpted eyebrow. "Are you quite finished?" 

He looked on as Anti laughed maniacally. "Do you even know how much I fucking hate you, Dark?" The glitched demon asked.

Dark cocked his head to the side. "You wouldn't survive a day without me." He informed Anti. "You're too violent. You hate everything, and have an insatiable bloodlust. Face it. You need me, or you would have been killed long ago." 

"I'd like to see them try." Anti sneered. "They couldn't get rid of me before, and they can't do it now."

"Need I remind you that you're not safe behind a screen anymore? Sean was feeding you, letting you-"

"He was weak !" Anti shrieked, his voice rising in pitch again. He started to glitch more rapidly, pitch consuming the entirety of his eyes. "I took his life from him, bit by bit, piece by piece until there was nothing left. I was in control!" 

Dark watched the scene unfold in front of him, smiling slightly. Anti was glitching, his voice layering upon itself and clipping out like a bad recording. Anti's powers often became wild, out of control, when he was angry, and he couldn't keep up his somewhat human facade. 

"Enough." Dark finally said. "We have more important things to discuss." He was so calm, his voice soothing and persistent. It was hard to resist the pull of his words, even for another demon like Anti. 

Anti scoffed, staring Dark down. The grayscale demon met his gaze, staring back until Anti scoffed again and looked away. "Fine." He agreed. "You want to talk about something more important? What are we going to do about the girl? I'm not moving again." 

Dark's mouth quirked up at the corners. "What did you think of her?" The two demons would typically kill whatever courier had brought their purchase to them. It wasn't anything against the couriers themselves, just an ongoing matter of hiding themselves from most of the world. 

Anti cackled. "She's an interesting one, to be sure. At least she knows how to mind her own business." 

Dark cocked his head to the side slightly as the other demon continued to speak. If he knew what Anti was talking about, he didn't say so, allowing the other demon to continue. "I know she could hear our little 'friend' in the other room before she left. . ." Anti paused for a minute, a shark toothed smile spreading across his face. "But she left anyway." 

Dark scoffed. "So? The agency has been losing plenty of couriers to us, especially recently. They probably warned her." 

"About the possibility that we'd have someone tied up in the other room? Unlikely." Anti appraised Dark, looking him up and down. "Besides, you've never been the one to take a chance on a 'coincidence'." 

Dark rolled his eyes, looking away from Anti, but the demon persisted. "She's new as well, you can smell it on her. The agency wouldn't have briefed her on such a possibility, knowing that we'd probably kill her anyway." 

"Why are you so fucking invested in this?" Dark growled, his auras springing to life as he became irritated. Blue and red doubled his form nauseatingly. The air around him grew charged, a mind numbing static beginning to permeate the space that surrounded him. 

"Because." Anti leered, leaning in to speak, as if he was sharing some big secret. "Her newness isn't the only thing I could smell on her." 

This caught Dark's attention, as his gaze shifted nearly instantly to meet Anti's. "Surely not." 

Anti cackled, the drugs that were in the blood kicking in. "Absolutely." 

His every nerve was singing, every piece of him absolutely alive. Dark's words seemed slower to him now, the quiet, threatening way he said them ceasing to matter to the glitch. It was the closest he had ever felt to being alive. 

"Are you listening to me?" Dark asked him, a frown forming on the grayscale demon's face. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Anti said, all in a rush. "This changes everything, we'll have to find the girl again, and all of that." A manic giggle passed his lips. "We can worry about that later. We have other things to take care of first. We have to take care of our guest in the other room, and you should take a hit of that blood." 

 Dark's frown deepened. "Then we should probably take care of our guest before you become too inebriated to remember which end of the knife kills people." 

Anti felt the briefest flash of annoyance, but the drugs coursing through his dead veins washed it away before he could recognize it. 

"And then?" He asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards once more. Dark sighed. 

"And then we go and find the girl." 

Chapter Text

My alarm went off, the overly enthusiastic musical tone rousing me from my restless sleep. I had slept fitfully, the implications of my late-night warehouse visit weighing heavily on my mind. I wasn't sure how my roommate did it all the time with a clear conscience, constantly delivering unknown items to unknown people. 

Either way, perhaps it wasn't my place to speculate on moral standards. I had more important things to worry about, namely the fact that I had to work a double shift today. I weighed my options.

On one hand, I could sleep an extra ten minutes. On the other, I could clock in ten minutes early, and get paid a little more. God knows I needed it, as I hadn't yet received my payment for last night's job and, no matter how much it was, money would inevitably be tight again. And I wouldn't be doing another job like that anytime soon.

I groaned as I forced my tired body to stretch and get out of my warm, comfortable bed. The morning was chilly, not as bad as last night, but chilly nonetheless. Winter would be upon us in a few weeks, and it would bring more customers to the coffee shop where I worked. 

As the weather grew colder, more people would seek a hot drink to warm their frostbitten fingers and drive rosiness to their cheeks. Snow would fall and the Christmas season would come, bringing with it gingerbread cookies and peppermint mochas. We would begin to sell peppermint sticks and frosted Christmas tree cookies.

Eventually, the weather would warm up again and bring in spring and then summer. Everything continued to turn, days blurring into weeks and then months. The cycle was comforting, at the very least, knowing that the world would go on, seemingly forever.

I sighed, glancing at the clock. I had already lost five minutes to my contemplations, five precious minutes that I could have used. I needed to get ready for work. I had taken a shower last night, all too eager to wash the dust and stink of the warehouse off of me. 

If I could get dressed quickly and snag a muffin from the kitchen, I could probably still get to work ten minutes early. I sighed again, rummaging through my closet for jeans and a good shirt with long sleeves. I paired them with tennis shoes and a coat, grabbed my keys and a muffin, and I was on my way before 7:45. 

I silently cursed the fact that my car's heater wouldn't kick in for at least a mile as I turned it on, clutching my jacket closer to my body. It wouldn't take me more than five minutes to get to work, thankfully, and I soon pulled into my usual parking spot. Entering the coffee shop brought a welcome burst of warm air, and I smiled as I exchanged my jacket for an apron in the back room. 

I checked the clock. It was 7:50. My shift didn't start until eight, so I was on track to get a little bit extra in my next paycheck. Walking out to the main lobby, I greeted a few of my coworkers and we made idle chat while we checked the coffee pots and restocked the sweets. 

It seemed that someone had come in at 4:00 when the shop had opened, ordered a latte to go, and then bought out the entire stock of sugar cookies. I laughed along with them, knowing that we opened extremely early and closed extremely late. No one wanted to be stuck with those shifts, but today, the unlucky person who would have to close up shop was me. If I was especially unlucky, I would have to close up at 1:00 instead of midnight, waiting for the stressed college kids and the businessmen to realize what time it was and pack up. We weren't allowed to kick them out because, apparently, it was impolite. And the owner insisted that "all business was good business". Well, at least, if my luck turned out to be bad, I would get overtime pay.

I had thought about calling in sick today, but had thought better of it. I needed the money badly, the tips even more. My check for both jobs would, hopefully, come at the end of the week.

Almost instinctively, I checked the calendar that sat on the counter. It was one of those cheap calendars with interchangeable tags. It was Wednesday, November 10th. I sighed quietly. This was both good and bad.

On one hand, I'd get paid in two days. Depending on how much my odd job paid, I might even be able to put some money in my savings account. On the other hand though, Thanksgiving was in two weeks. 

I scowled. Even thinking about it was enough to put me in a bad mood. Thanksgiving meant family, and family meant arguments. I'd never gotten along particularly well with my family, but everything reached a climax when they'd sent me off. I put in the years, earned a degree, but it wasn't enough for them. 

I wasn't good enough for them.

I didn't measure up to their standards, wasn't the poster child for excellence. My parents always compared me to my sisters. My older sister was "beautiful, successful, a wonderful wife and mother". My younger sister was "angelic, the perfect example of a girl" and "could do no wrong."

I was the forgotten middle child. The disappointment. I wasn't as lovely as Angela, not as well behaved as Claire. They were both mild mannered, quiet, and beautiful. Good girls, good candidates for marriage. Eye candy for someone rich, powerful, successful. 

I didn't envy them or their lives the slightest bit. I'd rather be a raven than a songbird. Ravens were bright birds, birds to be admired. They could learn, adapt to their environment, and they took care of their own. They flew free. Songbirds were well loved, well fed, and taken care of, but they spent their whole lives in the confines of a cage.

I sighed again. There was no point in ruminating on this issue now. I was at work, I had to bake pastries, make coffee, run the register, and take orders from the customers cheerily. Thoughts of my family, whatever they were, would have to wait. Besides, in the end, I would do nothing about it. 

I would go to my parent's Thanksgiving, like I always did. I would put up with the poking and prodding, pointed questions and backhanded compliments, like I always did. And I would lie through my teeth, like I always did. In the end, I would pack up my things, dodge giving them my new number, and go home. 

I startled back to myself as the bell over the door rang and a draft of cold air entered the coffee shop. Right. Customers. Work. I stored my family in a dark corner of my mind as I started to make more sugar cookies. A safe task. After all, we were completely out of them.

Chapter Text

They had taken care of business, not that it was the first, or last time that they would. The man had screamed a little at first, and his screams had only gotten louder as Dark grew irritated. His auras flared up, and he looked positively frightening. 

If Anti had been a mere human, like the disgusting waste of space in front of him, he supposed that he might have been afraid too. But instead, he was a demon, and he was not about to be outdone by that monochromatic freak. 

The air around Anti began to prickle, glitches and error codes popping in and out of existence. He couldn't help his laughter, a loud, maniacal burst of crackling noise. The drugs in his veins were still coursing through him, heightening his already frighteningly accurate senses. 

He took a step towards the man, flipping his knife. Everything around him was slower than he was, and he relished it. He didn't need to think to kill, to maim. It was instinct.

Dark cast him an annoyed look. "Anti. Not yet." Anti almost growled. It was infuriating, being ordered around by Dark like some attack dog. He bristled as he stood by, ready to kill the man. 

There were words being exchanged between Dark and the man. Anti didn't bother to process them, but he knew the tone. Sharp, callous words that could rip someone to shreds. 

But what did it matter? Words were words and blood was blood. Dark could mince words all he wanted to with that piece of filth, but at the end of the night, Anti would get to kill him. 

A sharp, accusatory thought poked at him, but he pushed it down, buried it in his mind like he had buried so many bodies in the dirt. Maybe it was whatever was left of Sean. Anti smiled at that. Sean had been a gullible host, giving him energy, feeding him with attention. Not just his attention, but others' as well. Anti had grown stronger while Sean had grown weaker, and when the day came, Anti had enjoyed taking over the Irish man's body, effectively killing him.

The small thought was nagging at him again, and he tackled it as it hissed and spit at him that Dark was right. He'd never survive on his own with his mindset that valued spilling blood over talking. He wrestled it down, stabbing it until it ceased to breathe, ceased to exist.

Then, the bliss of the drugs hit him again, and he forgot that the thought had ever existed. There was only Anti. No Sean, no people to put on a show for. It was just him. 

"Anti." And Dark. Anti growled slightly. Monochromatic bitch.

"What?" He crackled, bad feedback ringing through his speech. His tone was callous, rough enough to scrape anyone it brushed against. 

"You can kill him now." Anti had his knife at the man's throat faster than Dark could finish the sentence. He was frustrated, put up with Dark, and he slashed wildly at the man in a fit of rage.

Blood rushed over his hands, splattered his skin, and it calmed him. He was in control here, where blood was both the currency and the product. This was where he excelled. 

He stepped back. He had slashed through the man several times, leaving him in several different parts. He looked like he had been filleted. His skin was hanging loose in chunks, organs ripped open, and the bones were either broken or had deep gouges. 

"Do you think they'll get the message?" Anti asked, looking down at his handiwork and grinning. 

"If they don't, they're even more idiotic than I had previously thought." Dark said. "And they're assuredly not intelligent." 

Anti laughed like a maniac at that. "Well, at least you're right about one thing. Give me a hand with this body, or else we'll never make it to the car with it." 

Dark looked down at the mutilated corpse impassively before picking up a few pieces of it. The same blood that spattered Anti head to toe now covered Dark's hands, once again marking them equal. Equal in power, and equal in business. 

As much as they hated each other, they couldn't separate. Neither was powerful enough to kill the other, though both had tried. Instead, they had built up an empire together. Both of them had known that there wouldn't be a point in doing it without each other, though neither would ever admit to it. 

They were yin and yang. Chaos and balance. It was either they rose together or they both fell. Dark knew that Anti would never admit to how he felt about their relationship, both business and personal, and he wasn't about to either. 

It was almost comical. The two demons despised each other, loathed to be in the other's company, but neither would stray too far. There was an invisible thread tying them together, one that they couldn't break. As Dark viewed it, they were bound together till the end of time. 

Either way, he was rather impassive about the scenario. Anti annoyed him, but at the end of the day, they were both stronger together. They shared a business, a home, and sometimes even a bed.

The thought made Dark's mouth quirk up at the corners. As terrifying as Anti pretended to be sometimes, he was a mess in bed, just like everyone else that Dark had ever graced with his night time visits. 

But there was time to think about everything later. Anti, the girl, and everything in between. For now, the body had to be dumped on the front lawn of their competitor. Some people were getting just a little too close, messing in their business just a little too much, and it was time to send them a warning. 

Anti had been the one to think of it, and they had quarreled over it like children before it had devolved into a full out fight. Both had walked away, nursing wounds, and in the end, Dark had agreed to Anti's idea. Although he would never say anything, sometimes the glitch bitch did have an occasional thought floating through the small mass that he called a brain. 

Pushing the thoughts away again, he put the body pieces in the trunk and unlocked the car. Neither demon said anything until after they had dumped the body, cleaned the trunk, and the sun was already arcing through the sky. 

Dark felt Anti's eyes on him and turned. Their eyes met, and they stared at each other, silent curses and insults passing between them. Finally, Anti said the only word he had to say.  

"Coffee." 

Chapter Text

I was only an hour and a half into my shift when I knew it was going to be a long day. I had already known that, but the universe thought that it should give me a helpful reminder of that. I had finished the sugar cookies and put them in the oven before starting to make some muffins. 

It was only 9:30 so we would still have enough late morning customers to warrant making another batch. "Y/n!" Someone called out to me. "I think your cookies are burning!" I groaned.

"Dammit, Tessa was supposed to take those out for me!" I said, hurrying over to the oven. Burnt was an understatement. They looked like flattened lumps of coal. "Dammit." I murmured again. None were salvageable, and I'd have to make a whole new batch before the lunch customers came in. 

I cursed Tessa under my breath as I put in the muffins, setting the timer. Hopefully, someone would get them out of the oven when the timer rang. I measured the ingredients for sugar cookies again , mixing them up as quickly as possible. 

At 10:00, the timer for the muffins rang as I was rolling out cookie dough. I glared at it. At this rate, the cookies would never be ready in time. I sighed, blowing hair out of my face. "Can someone get that? I'm busy at the moment!" I called. Thankfully, someone did get the muffins out before they burned, and began to stock the display case. 

I turned back to rolling out the sugar cookies, and I put them in the oven at 11:02. I turned back to the counter. There was flour all over it, measuring cups and bowls. I sighed yet again, grabbing all of the dirty dishes and dumping them in the sink. Wetting the dish rag that was in the sink, I wiped off the counter, cleaning it of flour. 

When I was satisfied that it was clean, I checked the cookies. They were nearly done, so I set the timer for a few more minutes. 

I filled the sink with water, going on autopilot as I washed and then dried the dishes. 

The timer went off and someone got the cookies. Drinks were made, food was sold, and before I knew it, it was 11:45. 

I had just finished putting dishes away when I looked up at the clock and realized what time it was. Morning customers had switched to early afternoon customers, coffee and muffins exchanged for sandwiches and a wider variety of drinks. The employees that had opened the store were getting ready to clock out and go about the rest of their day. I envied them.

They wouldn't have to spend the rest of their day here, wouldn't have to 'patiently' wait for the last fucking customers to pack up their shit and leave already. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, realizing that I was getting way too upset over this. I took a moment to calm myself before clearing my throat. "Hey Andrew, switch out with me." I called to my coworker. "I can manage the counter for a while if you can make sandwiches or something for the lunch crowd." 

"Works for me." He answered, smiling at me and stepping away from the counter. Andrew was my closest friend from work, often working the same shifts as I did. We could talk for hours, and sometimes did, and we both knew that there were bets on how long it would take for us to start dating. I stifled a laugh at that. 

Neither of us were really interested in the other romantically, and even if we were, it was too good of a friendship to ruin with the inevitable breakup. 

"What shift are you working today, Y/n?" Andrew asked me. The shop was relatively quiet at the moment, only a few customers that were already sitting down. It was usually quiet at the changing of the guard, and there were only three of us behind the counter now. The next shift would start at two, when we would be wrapping up lunch and shifting towards the late afternoon and evening customers. Most of them would be university students or businessmen, and occasionally we would have an artsy type who wanted space to work. 

"Double." I said, and he winced. "No, wait, there's more. Double and graveyard." 

"Ouch, that's gotta hurt." He replied sympathetically. "But I know something that'll cheer you up!" I tilted my head, waiting for him to tell me what it was. "Guess who's also working graveyard shift tonight? That's right, it's me. Please hold your applause." He gave a small mock bow, a smile plastered across his face before cutting a sandwich in half and beginning to wrap it in plastic. 

I chuckled. It was hard not to be entertained by Andrew's antics, and his cheerfulness was contagious. "Are you sure I should be thanking you?" I teased. "You'll probably be hogging all the extra cookies I made while I close up." 

He pretended to be offended. "Who? Me? You offend me with your cruel words, dear lady!" He made another sandwich as he talked, somehow managing to look theatrical despite performing such a mundane task. 

I was preparing a comeback when the bell over the door rang, and I turned back to the counter to greet the new customers. "Good afternoon! What can I get for you?" I asked. The two strangers in front of me seemed odd, and I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I'd seen them before. 

The ravenette studied the menu meticulously as the man with green hair bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet. I waited for a few painful minutes as the man read the entirety of the menu. He had obviously never been here before, and was very picky about what he wanted.

I fought the urge to say something, instead keeping the smile firmly plastered on my face. I observed them as I waited, noticing what had bothered me. The man with dark hair was pale, to the point of being ashen, and the way he was dressed did not match his companion. He wore a black suit with a white shirt underneath, his entire appearance monochromatic. His companion, however, was an entirely different story.

While the first man looked as if he had just come from a business meeting, the green haired man was dressed casually. He wore ripped black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt, despite the biting cold outside. They certainly made an odd duo, but it wasn't my place to question our customers or their choice in company.

Eventually, the ravenette stopped staring at the menu and started looking at me instead. His companion stopped bouncing, and flashed me a small smirk. There was something naggingly familiar about it, but I pushed it off. 

I fidgeted slightly under their gaze, feeling like I was being examined. "Are you ready to order?" I asked, wincing slightly as my voice cracked.

"What do you recommend?" The man with dark hair asked, and my eyes widened. I knew his voice, if not his appearance. He was one of the men from the warehouse. A quick glance at the other's face revealed what I had found so oddly familiar about him. The same hungry green eyes and malicious smirk stared back at me.

I tried not to look as panicked as I felt as I answered the question. "Well, personally, I like the caramel frappé or the vanilla latte. If you're looking for something to eat, we have sandwiches and pastries." I shut my mouth before I could start rambling. My heart pounded faster in my chest. Were they here to kill me? 

"The vanilla latte, then." He said smoothly. "What do you want, Anti?" Any doubts that I had that these men were the same ones that I had met last night vanished. Maybe it was possible, if unlikely, that I had mistaken the men before out of fear. But it was impossible that two men in the same city would have the same, odd name that I had wondered about.

"Hey doll." Anti smirked at me, drawing his words out. "I'll take a macchiato with an extra espresso shot." His eyes darted over to the display case. "And a sugar cookie." 

"Will that be all?" I asked, my hands trembling as I wrote down their order. Then the man in the suit was far too close to me, the same cold fingers settling over my hand. 

"Take a break. We need to talk." I nodded shakily as I rang them up and they paid. I dragged my feet making the coffee, wanting to put off the inevitable. I was hoping they'd get bored and leave, but my unlucky streak continued. They waited patiently until I handed them their order.

"Hey, Andrew?" I called out. "I'm going on break." Without waiting for an answer, I walked around the counter to the two men, feeling like a prisoner being walked to their execution.

I shivered in the cold air as we stepped outside, but they seemed unbothered by it. I followed them into a secluded alleyway as my heart pounded even faster, a staccato beat in my chest. They were undoubtedly going to kill me. I would die in this alleyway, cold and alone and frightened. No one would ever know what happened to me, and-

"Calm down." A cold hand rested on my shoulder. "We're not going to kill you, although it was under serious consideration." I shivered at the implications. How close had I come to death?

Anti rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall facing opposite from me. "Yes, Dark. That's exactly how you calm someone down." 

The man next to me, Dark, shot a withering gaze at Anti. "As if you could do better. You'd probably just threaten her with your knife."

Anti shrugged noncommittally. "Stab first, ask questions later has always worked for me." My pulse quickened. These were very dangerous, very volatile men, and I had no idea what they would do.

I took a deep breath. "So, is there any reason you wanted to talk, or are you just going to kill me?" The words were harsher than I had intended, and I winced as fingers dug into my shoulder.

"Weren't you listening, doll? Dark just said we're not here to kill you. Just to. . ." he hesitated for a moment, fishing for the right word. "Repossess something that belongs to us." 

"That's a big word for you, Anti. Are you sure you know what it means?" Dark asked him, and I almost laughed. 

Anti's expression darkened. "Shut up, you monochromatic asshole." He growled. "You need me." 

It was Dark's turn to shrug. "And you need me." His voice was smooth, his tone even as he replied. 

"Guys, I do need to go back in a few minutes." I voiced. "Can I know whether I should be scared for my life or not?" Both sets of eyes landed on me, and I felt incredibly small.

Dark's lips were pressed into a thin line while Anti looked amused. "You should always be afraid for your life, doll." Anti told me. "Just not from us anymore." 

His cryptic response left me with more questions than answers. Thankfully, I didn't have to ask what he meant. "Someone saw you leave the warehouse last night. You've been linked with us. You're in danger." 

I scoffed slightly, not quite believing them. "Then tell whoever it is that I'm not involved with you. I have to go back to work. I have responsibilities other than delivering shady products and being scared half to death."

I started to walk back onto the street, angry. I had a life and bills to pay, something they clearly didn't understand or care about. I checked my watch. If I stayed out here much longer, the two of them would cost me my job. 

I was just about to turn the corner when a gunshot rang out.

Chapter Text

He was going to let her leave. Special or not, a human was not worth this much trouble. But a moment before the girl stepped out of the alleyway, Dark noticed the sniper. 

He acted quickly, tackling the girl to the ground and covering her with his body. She looked angry, starting to say something, but then the shot rang out, and the anger drained from her face, replaced by a raw, primal fear. 

"Anti!" He called, but the glitch was already moving. He was little more than a green and black blur at this point, headed for the rooftop where the shot had come from. Dark nearly scoffed. Of course. He should have known that Anti wouldn't need any excuse to kill someone, and since the man had shot at them, he was as good as dead.

"What's happening?" The girl asked, her voice shaky. Dark studied her face carefully, judging her reaction to determine exactly how much he should tell her. Humans were fragile after all, and telling her too much at once could overwhelm her mind. 

"As we said," Dark began, "You were seen leaving the warehouse last night, and consequently linked to us. As for why someone would shoot at you, you look like an easy target. If we hadn't been here, they might have succeeded." 

"But why would someone want to target me?" She asked, puzzled. It seemed like she was keeping up so far, and Dark was almost impressed. Almost. It wasn't anywhere near the understanding that he had seen others display, but for a human. . . 

"Murder isn't uncommon in rival mafias. I'm sure the concept is familiar enough to you, as it's been popularized by modern media." A hint of distaste colored Dark's voice. Although there was a grain of truth in most mafia fiction, a majority of it was greatly romanticized or entirely wrong. It simplified a complicated lifestyle and glorified the blood that stained all of its contents. 

It was disgusting. He felt his lips curl into a slight sneer at the thought, and saw the girl frown. "I didn't know that there were branches of the mafia in town." She replied, raising an eyebrow. It was wise of her to be skeptical, and Dark suddenly felt a slight flicker of warmth towards the girl. How odd.

"Most of the time, we operate in the shadows." Dark told her, ignoring the unfamiliar feeling. "It's easier to pull the strings if no one knows we exist." 

"Pull the strings?" She repeated, almost incredulously. "How deep does it all go? Are you playing us all like puppets on a stage?" She was panicking now, and Dark suppressed the urge to scoff at her instant reaction and the leaps she had made in logic. He needed to calm her down before she could understand anything he was saying. 

"You know, you're not too far off." A smirking voice said. Anti was back, his right hand resting idly against his leg, still holding his signature silver blade. It was stained with blood now, blood spattered and smeared all across it. His hair was slightly tousled and a few blood droplets had landed on his skin. 

Dark frowned. Distasteful. "Clean yourself up, Anti." He said, tossing his own handkerchief to the other demon. "You look suspicious." Anti looked at the piece of cloth, bringing it up to his face and inhaling deeply, and Dark noticed that his eyes were blown wide with lust.

Anti gave him a salacious smile, and Dark greeted him with stern disapproval. "Not now. We have bigger issues to deal with than your rather medium sized one." 

"Medium?" The glitch crackled with indignation. "Medium? I don't think that's what you were saying-"

Dark cut him off. "Anti. Enough. You have a rather medium sized-dick, and I currently have better things to do than top you. So, unless you want to go find someone that'll fuck you while you're covered in blood, clean yourself up. We have a job to do."

The girl, who had been watching their entire interaction, looked like she was trying to decide whether this was an elaborate joke or not. Finally, she sighed. "Look. Whatever you do, mafia or not, if you're pulling the strings in my life, I would like to have a discussion about where it's headed." Out of the corner of his eye, Dark saw Anti smile at her statement. "But for now, I really just need to get back in. I am on shift, and I do have to actually make money." 

"Lead the way." Anti motioned, and she blinked, confused at his statement. Dark simply sighed at Anti, knowing fully well that his companion wouldn't elaborate.

"We will accompany you. Since we are the ones you seem to have been accidentally, and irrevocably, associated with, it is only right that we protect you from harm until this whole mess can be sorted out." 

The girl looked into his eyes, as if analyzing him, a deep stare, with an intensity that nearly startled him. For a moment, he thought he could see what Anti had found so special about this girl. Celine was telling him something about the girl standing in front of him, maybe even what it was that he couldn't quite figure out himself, but her voice was muffled, as if they were both underwater. 

"Y/n." She finally said. It was her name. And it was like he had known it all along. Something clicked, a puzzle piece, one of many, part of a picture that he couldn't yet see. Dark shook it away. It would come together in time, and he would not rush it. Unlike Anti, he could be patient.

"After you." Then they walked back into the coffee shop, a better understanding between them, with Dark and Anti checking behind them the entire way. 

Chapter Text

Dark and Anti settled into a few armchairs in the corner, slowly sipping their coffee. To a casual onlooker, it might have looked like an oddly dressed couple drinking coffee together quietly. However, if someone were to watch them for long enough, they would have realized that Dark and Anti were not exactly normal.

They didn't talk to each other much, and they weren't exactly cordial when they did. They took turns watching the door and scanning the room, sometimes looking at me or each other. 

Luckily, it didn't seem like anyone was particularly interested in them today. No one gave them more than a second glance, and none of my coworkers went to their small table while doing their usual passes around the room to see if anyone wanted anything. In fact, it seemed like people went out of their way to avoid the two men. 

The tables around Dark and Anti were mysteriously devoid of customers, even though the area was usually packed with college students at this time of day. Some days, it seemed like every single student from the local college that had either had an 8:00 am class, or didn't have one until 4:30 was there. Programming students, English majors, students who were finishing their projects last minute or just wanted a quiet place to study usually dominated the corner. 

But today, it was empty other than the two men. The college students that had come to the coffee shop had found other tables, crammed themselves into another corner, or simply taken their usual orders to go. It was a strange departure from form, but it wasn't just the overzealous or half-asleep that seemed to sense that something was wrong. 

Other patrons chose new, and sometimes convoluted, routes to make their way to their seats. Even Olivia, a barista who was friendly to everyone, avoided their area like the plague. When she was clocking out, I heard her murmur something vague about their auras, but she was gone before I could ask her to clarify what she meant. 

The afternoon went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as could be expected, until around 2:30, right before the late afternoon rush. 

"Hey, doll." Anti leaned against the counter, a lazy smile spread across his face. I glanced at the clock, and, after deciding I could spare a few minutes for his antics, leaned in to talk to him. 

"Did you need something?" I asked him in a polite tone, with just enough of an edge to tell him that I was on shift and only had a few minutes to spare. I had no idea what to expect from him, other than my gut feeling that his half-smile and the glint in his eye meant that he had something mischievous in mind. 

"Yeah, more coffee. Can we have a black coffee and. . ." he paused for a minute. "What's the sweetest coffee you have on your menu?" 

"Our double chocolate chip mocha." It was the sweetest drink by far, mostly consumed by teenagers who didn't like coffee that much, but wanted the slightest bit of caffeine with their sugar to take the edge off of studying for a final. 

"Great. A black coffee, and one of those." Anti smirked. He slid his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbing a very expensive looking credit card from it. 

"Anything else?" I asked him as I rang up his drinks. His grin grew wider, and he leaned in until he was practically whispering, little shocks of static in his excited tone. 

"Yeah. How many sugar cookies do you have?" I felt a sort of déjà vu as I remembered what I had heard this morning from my coworkers. Nevertheless, I glanced over at the display case. 

"A lot." I replied. "How many did you want?" 

"I'll take all of them." He said, and I couldn't help but let out a small laugh. It seemed that our sugar cookies were popular today. I'd have to start on another batch right away if I wanted them to be done before the afternoon rush was over. 

As if he had read my mind, Anti put his hand over mine before I could grab a single cookie for him. "Do me a favour, doll. Don't make any more sugar cookies. If anyone wants any, you can point them over to me." 

I scoffed dismissively. "Why?" I questioned him. "In what way would that possibly benefit you other than possibly costing me my job for lost profit?" 

Anti's grin didn't waver. "I'll pay for any 'lost profit' that this store would make over the stupid cookies, if it will prevent your boss from bitching at you." 

"You still didn't answer my question." I said. I had half an idea to pull my hand away and cross my arms, refusing to take part in whatever he was pulling. But I didn't. Despite myself, I was curious, and I couldn't deny that, for some reason, the buzzing, numbing static that transferred from his skin to mine was pleasant.

He sighed. "I'm bored. Dark won't talk to me because he has a stick up his ass, and everyone else keeps avoiding us. I have to get someone to come over somehow." He shrugged noncommittally. "Besides. Your sugar cookies are pretty good." 

I stood there for another minute, trying to decide, and Anti looked at me with his piercing green eyes. "I can make it worth your while later, I promise." His easy grin had morphed into the same salacious smirk that I had seen him give Dark in the alleyway. 

I flushed, quickly pulling my hand away from him. "Fine. But if the shop loses any profit, you are paying for it. I'm not losing my job over this." 

Five minutes later, I was helping Anti carry the two cups of coffee and every single one of his sugar cookies over to his table. Dark looked at us, an unreadable look on his face. "Anti." He said slowly, taking in the giant pile of cookies that was now sitting in front of him. "What did you do?" 

The green haired man laughed, high pitched and staticky. Some might have called it the laugh of an absolute maniac. "I bought some sugar cookies." 

Chapter Text

Dark sighed, annoyed. "And just how many cookies is 'some', Anti?" The other demon shrugged. 

"The entire stock." He admitted nonchalantly. "I figured we'd be here for a while." 

Dark fought the urge to say something he might regret. Unlike his companion, Dark had standards that he set for himself, and while scolding Anti right now was tempting, they were in public. He knew how this would end. 

The argument would turn one of two ways, as it always did. Either the two would clash, becoming violent and both would end up nursing wounds, or it would culminate in Anti teasing Dark until he fucked the glitch against the nearest surface available. They couldn't afford either option in public, as both were sure to get them kicked out of the coffee shop. 

". . . and, you know, since watch duty is so boring, I found a chance to spice things up." Anti said, drawing Dark out of his contemplations. The glitched demon was smirking at Dark, who noticed that Y/n was looking down at her feet, her face flushed red. 

Dark could guess what Anti meant by that statement from her reaction, and an annoying spark of jealousy shot through him, wiping away all the ideals he held earlier. "Bathroom, now." He growled, his voice doubling as the air around him began to prickle with static. Regardless of any prior reservations he had had, he was going to fuck Anti against the bathroom wall until the other man remembered who was in charge of the scenario. 

Anti flashed him a smirk, which only further aggravated Dark, before walking over to wait by the bathroom. If it had been up to Dark, he would have railed the insolent demon right there, in the middle of the coffee shop. But he expressed restraint. That wouldn't do any of them any favours. 

Dark sighed, standing up, and Y/n instinctively took a step back from him. He glared at her and she shrank away from his gaze, cowering from him. "Don't scare her, Dark." Celine warned him. "Anti used her like he uses all humans, as just another pawn." 

Dark forced his gaze to soften the tiniest bit, forced his auras to calm down. They reached for her, as they quite often did for Anti, looking for a source of life to calm him, numb him from the irritation that interacting with humans so often brought him. For a brief moment, the duality of his being tore at him. 

Damien wondered why they reached out towards her, his blue aura reaching out in curiosity, while Celine drew her aura back inside of Dark, urging him to say something instead of satisfying his own curiosity. In the end, Celine won Dark over, and Damien recoiled, his aura snapping back towards Dark. 

Damien had only touched Y/n's aura for a brief moment, but the information he gave Dark was a few more puzzle pieces in the picture they were assembling. There was a connection, an unclear one, but a connection nonetheless. It reminded Dark of something Celine had once said about fate. They could change the outcome, divert the flow, but at the end of the day it was still the same tapestry with the same people weaving it. 

In the end, Dark just stared at her, and she back at him. "Don't do anything stupid while we can't protect you." He remarked before brushing past her to join Anti. 

The green-haired man gave him a lazy smile, showing off his sharp incisors. "Finished having discussions with the people in your head?" Somehow, Anti always seemed to know when Dark was communicating with Damien and Celine, perhaps due to their similar natures. Either way, it didn't matter, as Anti only ever mentioned it to annoy Dark.

Dark didn't answer him, only opening the bathroom door and walking in with the expectation that Anti would follow him. A moment later, he heard the bathroom door shut behind him, and the click of a lock. 

It only took a second before Dark was on him, pinning Anti to the door and kissing him. The older demon easily held Anti's wrists in one of his hands as their bodies pressed together. They both knew that Anti could easily break free from Dark if he wanted, as the monochromatic man wasn't really trying to hold him, but he didn't.

Instead, the glitch yielded, letting Dark press him against the door, opening his mouth to let Dark kiss him deeply, sharp teeth nipping at his bottom lip and making Anti moan. He let Dark trail bitemarks painfully down his neck, and arched upwards into the firm grip, whining when the other pulled away to admire his handiwork.

Dark, for his part, gave in, his eyes darkening and pupils blowing wide with the same lust that clouded Anti's mind. Seeing Anti before him, whining and panting and submissive, was enough to wipe everything else from his mind. It was easy to forget that they were in a coffee shop, that they had business to attend to, and that he had carried reservations about this not even five minutes ago. 

It was a rush to know that, while they were in bed together, even the slightest touch would send Anti, the normally confident, bratty glitch, into a submissive whore. And the power went straight to his head. "Do you want me to fuck you?" Dark asked, amusement lightly colouring his voice as he let go of Anti's hands, removing the last point of contact between them. 

"Dark! Just fuck me already!" The glitch growled. He was trying his best to appear calm, but the strain in his voice belied his impatience, as did the outline of his cock in his jeans. It was obvious how much he needed to get off, and he could, if he wanted. Anti could simply take care of his own problem, but they both knew that that wasn't the game. To take away the pain and patience would take away the pleasure of doing it in the first place.

"Is that any way to ask?" Dark chided him. "You must not want me to fuck you." He brushed Anti out of the way, reaching for the door handle, but Anti stopped him by gripping his wrist.

Dark said nothing, looking at the glitch and waiting, and for a moment neither of them moved. Anti gave in first. "Fuck, fine. Dark, please. Please fuck me." Dark still didn't say anything, instead lowering his hand back down to his side and raising an eyebrow. "Really?" Anti proclaimed in frustration. He huffed quietly, crossing his arms before affixing Dark with an utterly submissive look that screamed 'wreck me'.

"Please. . . master, please fuck me." Anti begged. He hated and loved it in equal measure, being forced to lay his pride down at Dark's feet and trusting the demon not to take it too far. It was a blind, wild trust, the kind that a human would give to a wild animal. A begrudging trust, but still knowing that they could be killed by their companion at any time. 

"How badly do you need me, pet?" Dark inquired. He was the one smirking now. "Show me how much you want me." 

Anti sank down onto his knees in front of Dark, looking up at him as he undid his partner's pants and pulled them down. Dark was already half hard when Anti took his cock into his mouth. It was a familiar activity at this point, one that he had engaged in more times than he'd ever admit. 

"Good pet." Dark praised, a moan escaping the prison of his lips as Anti sucked him off. It was humiliating to be sucking Dark's cock, enduring Dark's snide praise, but it was just enough. Anti shifted slightly, feeling himself getting painfully hard. 

Killing the assassin earlier had sent him into a haze of sadistic lust which blended far too comfortably into the masochism that he normally displayed for Dark. Anti would never admit it, but he liked bottoming for Dark. He would never have bottomed for anyone else before and never would again, but Dark exuded such an air of power, of absolute dominance, that it had awakened a side of Anti he had never felt before. 

Dark's hand was knotted in the mess of his hair now, bringing Anti off of his cock and slamming him into the wall. "Strip." Dark commanded him, his touch leaving Anti again. 

It only took a few minutes for both of their clothes to be on the floor and for Dark to have Anti pressed against the wall again. His wrists were once again trapped in Dark's grip, which was stronger now. It was sure to leave bruises that would fade nearly as fast as they appeared. 

The pain was welcome, a warm blanket that only added to his pleasure as Dark pounded into him. Neither of them cared anymore about the prospect of being caught; they didn't worry about stifling the moaning or swearing. Their job was the furthest thing from either of their minds at the moment.

It was their moment, the two of them meeting in the middle; a blend of murder and diplomacy, chaos and order, heat and cold. And if the entire world burned down around them, they wouldn't have noticed at all.

Chapter Text

"Do you think they're okay in there?" Andrew asked me, startling me out of my thoughts. 

I glanced towards the bathroom. "Probably?" Both Dark and Anti had been in the bathroom for a while, maybe an hour, doing. . . well, probably each other. 

“What do you think they’re doing?” Andrew pressed, and I just shook my head. For someone working on a degree in computer science, Andrew could be incredibly stupid sometimes. He hesitated for a moment, as if sensing my reluctance to answer any questions relating to the two men, before he continued, dropping his voice to a low whisper. “How did you meet them, Y/n? Do they have something on you? We could go to the police. . .” He trailed off, his expression one of dawning realization.

I took a deep breath, glancing at the bathroom door. “No, it’s fine. They’re. . . protecting me.” I heard Andrew sharply inhale at the statement, and I expected another round of questioning, but he was silent. “Don’t worry.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt. “You shouldn’t be in any danger. It’s. . .” I trailed off. “It’s just me.”

“Are you sure that they’re the ones protecting you?” Andrew questioned cautiously. His tone held something tense, maybe worry, maybe something else. For some reason, it irritated me. Andrew was right to have a healthy amount of doubt. They certainly weren’t normal, and I had been afraid both before going out to talk to them and after I came back. It simply wasn’t for the reasons that Andrew was thinking.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I snapped at him before I could stop myself, and he recoiled at the sharpness in my voice. I sighed, running my hand over my face. I knew I should apologize, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to. “I can take care of my own business, Andrew.” He started to say something, but I was suddenly very tired of the conversation. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I cut him off, walking away and leaving him with a worried expression on his face. 

Neither Dark nor Anti came out of the bathroom for another half hour, and when they did, they were just as juxtaposed as they were when they entered. Dark still wore a mask of indifference, a degree of separation from himself and the rest of the world. He looked exactly the same as he had when he had entered, if not better. His suit was immaculate, looking like it had just been pressed, and not a single hair was out of place. 

Anti, on the other hand, did look like he had just spent an hour and a half getting railed in a place where you were assuredly not supposed to have sex. His hair was messy, clothes rumpled, and eyeliner smeared. He hadn’t even tried to hide the bite marks that trailed across his skin, chaining across his neck and down into his t-shirt. Red, inflamed marks peeked out from under his shirt collar, blood from the long cut on the front of his neck running across the bruising flesh. His already strange appearance was accentuated by the new additions, but still, no one seemed to pay any of it any mind. 

For a moment, Dark’s eyes met mine. He didn’t approach me, didn’t utter a single word, but a numbing static crept over my skin, ghostly touches caressing my arms. I shivered, and he looked away, but not before I saw something almost painful hidden deep within his eyes. It could have been a trick of the light, but as he turned from me, I thought I saw his dark eyes reflecting two different colors. One blue, one red. 

It only lasted a second, but I could feel the pain that radiated from him, an unbridled tide of fury masked by a blanket of snow. Something, someone, had hurt him, was still hurting him. They were what drove him. I understood him, something in me calling out to his pain. I knew what it was like to be the villain of someone else’s story. Not only that, but to be made to be the villain of my own story. It ate at him, corroding what might once have been love, or at the very least, compassion. But he could no longer let himself feel them. Those feelings had no place in his heart, held nothing for him. They were only a burden. 

The fragile thread that held us, that gave me a foothold in understanding Dark’s psyche, snapped, leaving me more confused than before. I was hyper aware of myself, of everything from my own breathing to everything I hated about myself, everything that I could never fix. 

I was a broken piece, a tuneless melody. Where there had once been love and understanding for someone, there was now only an analytical understanding that bordered on hatred. He had killed us all, had ripped away our identities, our sanity, and left us in pieces. And we were left to figure out how to forge onwards in a world that he had designed to progress without us, mere shadows in the background-

Anti was shaking me, none too gently, and I slowly became aware that I was no longer standing behind the counter. I was sitting in the corner that they had claimed as theirs, the tray of sugar cookies still precariously balanced on the small table, cold cups of coffee beside it. There was something in Anti’s eyes, a concern that didn’t quite belong to him, yet another misplaced puzzle piece lacking color or form. 

When he noticed that I had snapped out of whatever trance had held me captive, the small fire of concern that had burned in his eyes flickered out. Whatever had burned behind his eyes had once again gone limp and silent, as if it lacked either the energy or willpower to continue living. Maybe Anti himself had crushed it. 

  “Doll, I think you need a break.” Anti said bluntly, leaving no room for argument. He glanced over at Dark, and whatever he saw there only served to confirm his belief. “There’s a back door to this place, right?”

Chapter Text

Dark knew. He didn’t fully understand, but now he knew what both Anti and Celine had seen in the girl. He knew why his auras had reached out for her instinctively, and why Damien expressed such quiet curiosity over her. 

For the briefest of moments, when he had met her eyes, her aura brushed against his, and he had finally seen her. He had found a window into her soul for one long moment that stretched into eternity and whatever lay beyond. And just as he saw her, he knew that she saw him. There was a certain beauty in it, the realization that she could understand him. That she could see him better than even Anti could. 

But it was also tragic. As he had glanced into her mind, he saw the passion, the intellect, the wasted opportunity that was within her. He saw how she herself was a broken entity, cracks filling the empty space within her. He had felt the echoes of her pain, long buried, just as she had undoubtedly felt both Damien’s and Celine’s pain. 

“She didn’t know.” Celine spoke up, breaking the uncanny, almost stunned silence that she had held since the window into Y/n’s mind had closed. “If anything, we prompted this to happen. And by doing so, we have put her on an irreversible collision course with danger.” 

Dark said nothing in response, he didn’t need to for Celine to sense his question. “She never needed to know, never had any reason for her abilities to manifest.” Celine explained. “But now that they have a reason, they have manifested. Anti could sense them before, and now? She’s like a lighthouse. Unprotected, she is a beacon of potential for anyone to claim.”

“Can’t we alleviate that burden for her? Take it away, or dim whatever signals she puts off?” Damien questioned. He looked for an easy, efficient answer, just as he had many, many years ago when he had looked after a city instead of just one girl. 

Celine sighed at her brother’s suggestion. “Damien. If we were to take it away from her, it would kill her. It’s as much a part of her as we are a part of Dark. You could not remove me from the body we are in without heavy consequences, or the inevitable ending of whatever ‘life’ we are still living.”

“Enough.” Dark interrupted them. “Celine, what do you suggest that we do?” His tone was clipped, a certain irritation permeating his voice. The decision he had made to consult them was turning into much more of a headache than he had expected, and was starting to be more trouble than it was worth.

“She needs our help, before she ends up like us, or worse.” Celine replied. “If we were to leave her alone, she would go insane at best. At worst? Someone like Actor would find her.” Dark could feel the distaste in her words, the hatred of her ex-husband that coloured her tone every time she spoke about him. 

“What happened?” Damien’s tone was soft, careful, even more so than it normally was when he talked to Celine. She scoffed, and they could all sense her anger. “I meant with her.” Damien clarified, and Celine softened. 

“There was no distinction between us.” Her voice was hushed, melancholy, as she explained. “For a moment, I was her, and she was me. My hatred, sorrow, they belonged to her. How Actor betrayed us, killed us. . . she understood. Not only that, but I felt her pain, cutting into me like a knife.” There was a moment of hesitation before she continued. “Dark. Be careful with her. She’s more fragile than I thought.”

Before Dark could ask Celine what she meant, she had gone quiet again, her presence distant. He wiped away his growing frustration like rain, letting his emotions settle, sinking deep below the surface once more until they were barely noticeable. He was alone in his mind once more with his thoughts, free from both Damien and Celine, free from the barest hints of emotion that he had left. 

Dark took a deep breath as he followed Y/n out through the back exit, Anti following closely behind them. It would be easier to talk to Anti alone about what to do, but, especially with Celine’s warning fresh in his mind, he couldn’t afford to leave the girl alone. It was far too risky to do so at the current moment, and, whether or not Anti agreed, Dark knew that he couldn’t let her go home by herself.

Out in the back alley, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and slowly sliding down to the ground. “Anti. Go make sure there aren’t any other assassins out here, waiting for us.” 

Anti scowled, but a firm look from Dark had him scaling the cracked brick wall up to the roof of the coffeeshop. The post-sex haze was fading quickly for both of them, leaving them both pent-up and frustrated once more. The only difference was that Dark, obviously, was handling it much better than his partner. 

Dark knew how to put his own personal opinions aside and focus on the bigger problem. Anti let his feelings towards anything and everything control him. He craved excitement, chaos and blood, whereas Dark preferred silence. The juxtaposition between them made them an odd couple, but perhaps that was why they worked so well together. They balanced each other out. 

Dark sighed quietly. While he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty, and quite often did, he hoped that if there was another assassin waiting, that Anti would take care of them. “Celine?” he asked, but his words were only swallowed by the darkness in his mind. As much as he might need her input on the scenario, she was gone.

Dark took a deep breath before looking over at the girl. She was quiet, but he could see her body was trembling. If he narrowed his focus down to only her, he could hear her shaky breaths, see the few tears that had leaked past her eyelashes and were running down her cheeks like broken pieces of glass.

There was a small pang in his chest, one that he only felt in brief flickers. When Celine talked about William; Damien about the city he had cared for; or when he, himself, saw Anti bruised and broken from wounds that he had not inflicted upon the other. He didn’t know how to feel about it, so he buried it deep within him instead.

He took one last look at her before following Anti up onto the rooftop, away from prying eyes and ears, but still close enough to keep an eye on Y/n. And, it was strange, but as he distanced himself from her; a piece of him broke away, lingered down on the ground beside her. A slow, creeping realization started to dawn on him, but he shelved it. 

Not now. Never again. 

Chapter Text

Anti had never been one for contemplations. 

On the contrary, he preferred to live his life moment to moment, thinking fast and relying on his instincts to guide him. If he thought too hard about something, it was all too easy for Sean to start creeping in, corrupting his thoughts with the foolish notions of “morals” and “doing the right thing” that all humans seemed to entertain. So, instead, he simply didn’t think about things. Actions were superior to words, anyway. 

But now, something had changed. Sure, he was looking, scanning the rooftops that were lit by the afternoon sky for any potential threats, but it was all automatic. For once, Anti wished that his instincts weren’t quite so sharp, that he couldn’t unconsciously scan for the telltale movements that would alert him to the presence of another living being, or look for the glint of a weapon without having to utilize the majority of his attention. If he had to focus to do that, then maybe he wouldn’t be so lost in his thoughts right now. 

 It was Y/n. She was what was distracting him, and he knew it. He just couldn’t quite tell what it was about her. It wasn’t just because of whatever was different about her, or how his skin prickled when he came into contact with her. No, it was something much more, something that he couldn’t explain. “Love.” Sean helpfully supplied, little more than a whisper in the back of his mind.

Anti growled, a quiet, low sound, annoyed at the interruption to his thoughts by the man that should rightfully be dead. It was his body now, not Sean’s, and the pathetic man didn’t get to have a say in anything. Besides, Sean was wrong. The idea was all too easy to dismiss, just like nearly everything else Sean felt the need to try to “help” him with.

Still, Anti couldn’t shake the thought. Love? That was ridiculous. He had never felt this way with any of the people he had fucked into a mattress, and it wasn’t the same way he felt towards Dark; wasn’t the twisted, complicated knot of feelings that only got messier the more he tried to unravel them. No. Sean had to be wrong, just like he had been wrong about everything else.

After all, what could a weak human, a barely suitable host, know about his “feelings”? He couldn’t know, too stupid to understand, and too feeble-minded to even try. “I know more than you think, Anti.” The barest echo of Sean’s voice sounded again. “Just listen to me for once!” 

A snarl ripped through Anti’s chest, his mouth twisted in a scowl. He refused to listen. Sean was dead, and he was alive, he was the one in control, and nothing Sean could say would ever change that. He had spent too long lurking in the background, amassing power and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. He wasn’t about to use his freedom to do what he had spent all those years, trapped behind Sean, doing. 

“And you chide me for speaking to the voices in my head.” Dark broke Anti from his thoughts, his voice as smooth and even as the cup of coffee he had drunk earlier today. He didn’t sound the way that Anti expected him to sound. Not angry, not annoyed, not even the barest hint of amusement coloured his voice at Anti’s hypocrisy.  Instead, his tone held something almost entirely alien, something Anti would never have associated with Dark, despite how much tragedy the man had endured to get to this point. If Anti hadn’t known the other so well, he might never have picked up on the pain in his tone in the first place. 

But, despite the fact that Sean urged him to press the issue, appealing to the empathy that Anti barely had, or maybe because of that fact; Anti ignored the fact. He didn’t turn around to face Dark, continuing to scan the rooftops instead. Maybe he simply didn’t want to face the fact that Dark could be hurt by something.

“Did you come up just to give me a performance review?” Anti asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice, thick as honey. “Or did you actually have something important to say?”

He could feel Dark’s annoyance with him, the familiar, dangerous flickering of Dark’s auras springing to life. They warped the air around him, spreading the same numbing static across his skin as Y/n’s touch did. And he welcomed it, welcomed the familiarity in a situation he would never admit he didn’t know how to handle.

The sheer pain that had shown in the monochrome demon’s eyes was enough to give anyone pause, except maybe Actor. The son-of-a-bitch who had caused that pain in the first place. Anti felt the air around him light up, becoming textured with glitches. He didn’t bother to try to calm himself down, instead using his growing anger to redouble his efforts on the rooftop, scanning them again for the fourth time in a row.

Dark’s hand was on his shoulder, turning him around, and Anti realized that he was baring his teeth at the other man, a fresh snarl exiting his body at the disturbance. “What?” His tone was harsh, his voice full of static and overlap, the word barely recognizable.

Dark stared at him for a moment, scanning the other demon with blank eyes. Anti hated it, hated how Dark always tried to look deep within him. It made him feel like Dark was trying to find Sean, trying to talk to Sean, instead of Anti himself. He swatted the other demon’s arm away, brushing it off his shoulder with a callousness usually reserved for his enemies. “What?” Anti repeated. He was growing frustrated, even angrier, and if Dark wasn’t careful, he might find himself on the receiving end of Anti’s anger.

As if sensing the thought, Dark pulled back from Anti, straightening his suit and putting his arms behind his back. He drew himself up, taking a glance over at Y/n, still sitting down in the alleyway. The fleeting spark of jealousy Anti felt at that was quickly replaced by one of an uncharacteristic concern that he couldn’t dismiss. 

She was crying. Deep within him, Sean urged Anti to go over to her, to assure her that it would be okay, even though they all knew that that would be nothing short of a lie. He sighed, a loud exhale of air, half in annoyance and half in something he preferred not to think about.

“What about Y/n?” He asked. Dark’s posture shifted a miniscule amount, and Anti knew that that was the subject that he had wanted to discuss in the first place. 

“We should take her home with us.” Dark said calmly, and Anti’s first reaction was rage. Maybe it was irrational, but that was their space that he and Dark shared, their space that had never been intruded upon by anyone who left it alive. “She’s in danger. Both from others and from herself.”

The anger was quickly giving way to a fear that Anti had never felt before, a remnant of emotion, shattered glass pieces from his host. It must have been instinctual, as he had never felt it before, never had the need to feel it before. “How?” He asked, despite himself. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but something in him pushed him to know.

“Celine saw something.” Dark’s words were emotionless, spoken in a nearly monotone voice, but Anti could put the pieces together. The emptiness in Y/n’s eyes and how she hadn’t seemed to hear them, Dark’s carefully guarded expression of surprise and pain. . . something had gone on between them, much more than Dark was saying with his one, simple statement.

But, as much as he wanted to know, Anti didn’t press him for more information. Dark would tell him in his own time, or at least, Y/n would. “If she’s going to be living with us, we’ll have to make some. . . changes.” 

Dark’s tone was even, as smooth and polished as glass. “Then you should go get the car.”

Chapter Text

“Come on, doll,” Strong arms lifted me up to my feet. “Time to go.” 

“What?” I asked, cracking open my eyes to look up at Anti. “But. . . what about the rest of my shift?” 

“Don’t worry about that.” Anti replied. "Dark's taking care of it." 

“I need the money!” I argued. Even though I felt both physically and emotionally exhausted, I couldn’t just abandon my work. I could, and most likely would, get fired for that, and I needed this job to pay the bills. Sure, I was probably okay now, with the extra money I had made from delivering god-knows-what to these two, but it wouldn’t last forever. In a few months, I would be struggling to make ends meet again, and I needed every last dollar I could get in order to prolong my period of financial security. 

"Is there a problem?” Dark’s smooth voice rang out. “Because I can hear you two arguing from inside the coffeeshop.” Anti looked annoyed at the comment, but Dark continued before he could say anything. “Y/n.” He addressed me. “If you are concerned about money, I can assure you that the payment you’re receiving from the delivery you made will be enough for you to take a few days off.”

I sighed, exasperated. “That’s not the issue! I’ll have bills to pay next month, and the month after that, and every month for the rest of my life. If I just leave in the middle of my shift, the owner of this store can fire me. And I need this job to be able to keep paying bills after the money from that job runs out.” 

Dark didn’t seem bothered by my outburst. “They won’t fire you. I can make sure of that.” His tone darkened slightly at the last part of his statement, and part of me wondered how he was intending to uphold his word. The other, more logical, part of me decided that it would be better if I didn’t ask. 

Anti rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. If it’s that much of an issue, why don’t we just pay her? We have the money, and it’d be easier on all of us since we won’t have to keep coming back here every other day.” 

Dark looked thoughtful for a minute. “And what if she doesn’t want to, Anti? She seems as though she enjoys her job.”

“Then she can just take a vacation until this all blows over!” Anti was quickly growing impatient. “We have more important things to do than sit in a coffee shop all day! If we have to play babysitter because you couldn’t be bothered to check the perimeter before she made the delivery last night, then she should at least come with us, not the other way around.”

That stung. “You don’t have to babysit me, if it’s that much of a chore.” My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t feel bad. If that’s all I was to them, just another big, troublesome checkmark on some to-do list, then I wanted no part of it. “I didn’t ask for you to fucking babysit me to begin with!” 

I was angry, and I felt that it was justified. Dark and Anti had barged into my life, almost gotten me killed, and now they were trying to order me around. Not to mention that I still hadn’t gotten paid for the delivery that had gotten me roped into this whole mess to begin with. “I’m not some child who can’t take care of herself.” I felt myself growing angrier yet, hot tears spilling from my eyes. I wiped them away angrily as years of pent up hurt boiled to the surface. 

I had always been treated like a small child in my family, like a lost sheep who had taken a wrong turn and was too stubborn to admit that it needed help. I was sick of it. I was an adult, old enough to make my own mistakes and learn from them. I didn’t need someone to act as my sword and shield, didn’t need someone to coddle me, pat me on the head and tell me that everything was alright. My vision blurred as the tears fell faster, the world melting together in one long smear of color.

“Y/n.” Dark’s voice was firm, but soft. The edges of it weren’t as harsh as they normally were, weren’t as determined to tear into their target with practiced accuracy. “As I said earlier, we are responsible for this mess. Due to this, we are responsible for you until it’s all sorted out. Because of what has happened so far today, it would be in your best interest for you to come with us.”

“I have to work!” I protested again, wiping away more tears that were falling. Anti, annoyed, and possessing none of the tact that Dark had, finally grew too impatient to let the argument continue. The air around him prickled, stinging my skin, and his eyes turned to pitch. Blood leaked from around his eyes, trickling down his face, and it also began to ooze once more from the wound on his neck.

When he spoke, his voice was so heavily distorted that it was hard to understand. But I did understand it, and it, combined with his appearance, was more than enough to make me afraid. 

"̵̻̬̙̤̞̗̯͍͚̝̤̟̋̑̾̀̔̚͜T̵̖̪̩͓̳̍̍͗̐̓̓͝ͅȟ̵̙̟͔̦̲̅͛̂͂̆̇̉̄͋͒̑͜͝i̴̡͖̦̹̥̭͖̺̍͗̚s̸̡̻͈͔̫͋͛͜͝ ̷̺̯͈̟̲̦̼̩̦̘͇̜͂̀͌̈͊̈͛͑̂͘͝ͅi̸̛̲͍͎ṣ̴̨̡̡̡͙͇͕̘͉̬̥̜͐͂̃̐̓̅̐̒̕͜͝n̸̛̮̯̱̩̓̃̅͂̏̒̚͝͠'̷͚̙̱͕̀̉̎̎̚̕͠͝ț̵̡̪̣̝̣͓͎̺̦̩̘̟͕͐̈́̈̍̂̐ͅ ̸̡̢̟̯̠̠̹͔̼͈̭̳̂̿͛̂͑͐̕̚̚a̷̛͎͉̗̻͇̅̑ ̵̥̄c̶͖͖͈̲̲͎̆h̵̪̘̜̗̰͙͋̏̾̄̐͊͛̓͛̅͆̑͒ơ̶̜̪̬̿̈́̉̐̏̓̊̄̐̈́ĩ̶̺̰͔̖̠̈́̿̿̓͋͘͜͝c̵̨̳̜̫͔̤̱͔̩͈̬̜̗͊͗͆̒̐͋̚͜͜ẻ̵̢̦̯̳̺͍̤̱͊̕.̷̯̖̤͉͋͑͝͝"̸̰̝̪̿̉̽

Chapter Text

“Thank you, and have a nice day!” 

As soon as the customer turned their back, Andrew let his mask of cheerfulness slip. It was almost the end of his shift, and his patience for the customers was wearing thin. He yawned, checking his watch. It was 11:30, six hours after Y/n had left with Dark and Anti. 

He had tried his best, he really had, but it seemed that she simply couldn’t be swayed from her blind trust in the two of them. And he couldn’t risk telling her what was really going on behind the scenes. He didn’t have the complete picture himself, but the fragments he did have didn’t exactly paint the two of them in a good light. 

So he had sacrificed everything, given it all up to protect her. He knew what was on the other side of the curtain that most humans tried their hardest to keep from slipping away and shattering their worldview. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game like this, trapped between their world and his own, but he couldn’t exactly leave now. 

Andrew sighed as the bell over the door rang, once more assuming his cheerful mask. “Hello, how can I help you today? We close in thirty minutes, but if there’s something I can get you before then. . .” His voice trailed off as he looked up at the man who had just walked in. 

Shit. 

“Come now, Andrew.” The brunette’s voice was soft, but there was an edge underneath it, sharp and prodding, that threatened him. “You wouldn’t mind staying open a little longer for me , now would you? I need you to clear out the shop so that we can have a little chat.”

Andrew nodded, swallowing his fear at being left alone in the coffee shop with the man. He knew what could happen if he didn’t comply. A quick glance around the coffee shop revealed only a few customers, which was good. He hoped they would be agreeable to leaving, he didn’t want any more blood to stain his hands. 

“We’re closing early.” He announced. “There’s an emergency, and we have to close up shop.” Most of the customers in the store checked their phones, looking at the time, and then got up, deciding it wasn’t worth the argument to stay for another half an hour. A few grumbled, but got up all the same, the bell on the door ringing behind them.

The coffee shop was empty, save for Andrew, his associates, and one college kid. He must not have heard Andrew, his headphones resting snugly on his ears. Presumably, he had not heard the announcement, so wrapped up in his own world.

Andrew sighed, approaching the college kid that he had just served a few minutes ago, softening his posture and tone to appear more welcoming. He tapped the boy’s shoulder, waiting for him to pull off his headphones.

“Hey, man,” Andrew started when he had pulled the headphones down to rest around his neck. The boy looked no older than nineteen, and a term paper was pulled up on his computer. He didn’t look at Andrew as he spoke, but turned halfway towards the older man to indicate that he was listening.

Andrew could feel eyes at his back and grimaced. It was critical that this boy get out of here as soon as possible. He had done nothing wrong except being in the wrong place at the wrong time. “I need you to go someplace else. I’ve got to close the shop down early.”

“Yeah, okay.” The boy said, still not looking at Andrew. “Let me just finish this paper.” Andrew glanced over at the computer screen. He only had a few paragraphs written so far, and definitely would not have his paper finished anytime soon. Andrew wondered if he was even aware of the time. Either way, it didn’t matter. He needed to put his foot down, lest tragedy form from the boy’s ignorance.

“No, I need you to leave. Now.” Andrew said, a note of urgency creeping into his tone. He clenched his fists to his sides, “Please.”

The boy did look at him now, annoyance painting his face. “What is your problem, man? I’m just trying to finish this paper. I thought this coffee shop was chill.”

“I think you’d better leave, boy.” Andrew hadn’t heard the dark-haired man approach, and he jumped. So did the young man. The voice was quiet, smooth as silk, but still dangerous. He reached around, closing the boy’s computer. “Run along now. The city can be dangerous at night. You wouldn’t want something tragic to happen, now would you?”

Something in the man’s tone terrified the boy, just as it terrified Andrew. He packed up his things hurriedly, scrambling to get out the door as quickly as possible. Within a few minutes, the bell on the door rang cheerily behind him too.

Andrew turned to the dark-haired man. He did not know the other’s real name, only the one he preferred to be called by. Actor. 

He was a dangerous man, rarely raising his voice at those around him. It made it hard to judge his emotions, how he really felt. His silence could mean approval or conceal a particularly violent outburst of the rage that always seemed to be simmering just below the surface. Maybe that was why they called him Actor. He always seemed to have a mask on, always seemed to be playing a role.

No one knew what he was really like behind the tightly drawn curtains that he held around him. He refused to let anyone in, refused to let down his mask. He insisted that he was the ‘hero’, that he was righteous, and anyone who contradicted him was wrong. Despite Actor’s smooth exterior, Andrew knew that something in him bristled. A tightly wrapped wound manifested itself through paranoia, a god complex. 

But Andrew still listened. There was a certain charm that Actor had, the way he carried himself, that made Andrew follow him. His charisma, or whatever he held over Andrew, made him feel that he would be lost without Actor to guide him. But, of course, Andrew knew the risks of being around Actor. He would have left a long time ago, would have left as soon as his debt was paid, if it wasn’t for Y/n.

He had overheard something that he shouldn’t have, something he didn’t fully understand and didn’t want to, right before he had been about to leave for good. And so he had sold himself, his soul, right back to them. It was ironic, in a way, to think that he had never wanted a part of this, never wanted to be involved in the mafia or assume his cousin’s debt to them. But when he was finally free, finally about to shed the shadowy life he had been forced to lead, he was pulled right back into the heart of it, of his own volition. 

When Andrew’s cousin had died, he had owed nearly a quarter of a million dollars to Actor. Of course, Actor had still expected the money, and since Andrew was his cousin’s closest living relative, he had assumed the debt. He hadn’t had that much money either, especially not on the salary of a barista who was barely paying for college. So he had been conscripted into the mafia until Actor determined that the debt was paid off. 

That had been two and a half years ago. Andrew had tried his best to keep his head down and do whatever he was told to do. For the first year or so, that wasn’t so bad. It was mostly handling trade offs of drugs or guns, cleaning up after they had tortured someone. He had seen his fair share of dead bodies in that year, more than he thought he ever would, but he hadn’t killed anyone. That didn’t last.

Actor had changed that. He had become interested in Andrew, although whether he liked or hated the man was a mystery. Actor had taken Andrew under his wing, introducing him into a treacherous world of blood and betrayal, where you were just as likely to receive a handshake as a knife in your back. Andrew remembered clearly the first time he had seen a murder firsthand, the passion draining from a man’s eyes just as the blood drained from his body.

The bullet had struck the man directly in the heart, and he had fallen to the ground. Andrew watched him as he died, watched the man become a corpse. Actor had stood beside him, gun in hand and a blank expression on his face. “Pity.” Were the only words he offered as a memorial to the dead man. And he had walked away. 

The news reports of the man’s death had haunted Andrew as he followed the case with a rapt, almost morbid attention. In the end, the murder was attributed to a hit and run, and marked as unsolved. It wasn’t until the third murder was marked unsolved, despite the evidence that pointed otherwise, that Andrew realized that Actor was paying off the police. He stopped worrying, at least about that. 

“So, Andrew.” Actor said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Do you want to explain to me what happened today and why one of my best assassins is dead now?” Andrew cowered. He hadn’t known the specifics, only that Dark had come in to explain that Y/n would be leaving work early. 

He left a phone number, probably to an untraceable burner phone, for if the owners of the coffee shop wanted to talk to him about Y/n taking the rest of the day off. Andrew had texted it to Actor before he tossed it in a drawer, certain that he would not be telling the owners that Y/n had not stayed for the full shift. He hadn’t clocked her out yet, waiting to do that until he left. 

The world he was involved in was not her fault, after all. Why should she have to suffer just because she had an unfortunate tendency to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? She was practically his little sister, and he wanted to protect her as best he could. 

He had even been planning to pay for her to go to college for her master’s degree. She had applied and been accepted, just to be forced to quit when the funds from her family dried up, after they discovered that she wasn’t studying exactly what they wanted her to. He supposed that was one of the only benefits of his side job, that he made enough money from it to be able to help others. Of course, it wasn’t enough to clean his hands of the blood and dirt that stained them, but it would at least put less blood money in his bank account, and wash at least the money clean.

“I. . . I underestimated them. I’m sorry.” He lowered his head, not wanting to look into Actor’s piercing eyes. He wasn’t sure which he was more sorry about at this point, accidentally being involved in someone’s death or disappointing Actor. “I’ll do better.” 

Actor lifted Andrew’s head up so that their eyes met again, his gloved hand cupping Andrew’s face. His eyes searched Actor’s for any kind of emotion, but he was only met by the same expression of almost clinical analysis. 

“Of course you will. I’d expect no less from you.” Actor’s tone was even, impossible to read, but his eyes had softened. It struck Andrew then, how much Actor looked like Dark. They had the same eyes, same nose, same lips. In fact, they were so similar that they could have been twins. The only difference was their gestures, their demeanor. 

Actor leaned in close, and Andrew felt his breath hitch. Actor, seemingly like his counterpart, wasn’t big on affection. What little warmth the other shared was usually behind closed doors. But tonight, it seemed different. Actor stopped, just far enough away from Andrew to increase the tension, the thoughts of the half a dozen other moments he had shared with this man that already permeated his mind.

And he was rewarded for his patience, the tension breaking as Actor kissed him. Passion flooded him, a dizzying tide of emotions sweeping through his entire being at the one, simple act. It was over far too quickly, and Actor pulled away, smoothing out his clothes.

He left Andrew standing there, his mind still reeling as he walked toward the door. “Oh, and Andrew?” He quipped. “Don’t fail me.” The door opened, the bell ringing brightly one final time, before closing behind Actor.

Andrew stood there, dazed, for another few minutes before shaking himself off and starting to lock up the shop. Yes, he knew the line he was walking. Wandering too far on either side led to disapproval and then death, and he was trapped. He had trapped himself. But as he thought of both his best friend, Y/n, who was basically his sister, and of his lover, he knew that he wouldn’t change his decision even if he could.

Chapter Text

Dark’s burner phone lit up, playing the overly obnoxious ringtone that was preloaded onto the phone. He hadn’t seen the point in changing it, especially since he would be destroying it in favor of a different one after a dozen calls or so. He didn’t like for anyone to even have one of his phone numbers, but sometimes, it was necessary. 

He had been working on cleaning out a spare room for the girl to sleep in, but he paused when he heard the enthusiastic ringtone. Fishing it out of the pocket of his jacket that was lying on a box halfway across the room, he looked at the caller ID. Unknown.

He wondered for a moment if he should answer it, or just let it go to voicemail. He didn’t remember giving his phone number to anyone new recently. Then, it struck him. He had given the boy manning the counter his number to give to the owners of the coffee shop. He had needed to talk to them about making sure that Y/n got some time off, including that afternoon, to appease Anti. 

He hit the answer button, and for a moment, he was met with nothing but static and empty air. He didn’t say anything, instead moving his thumb over to hover over ‘end call’. 

Then came the amused, self-satisfied voice. “Dark, you are a hard man to find.” His eyes narrowed and he unconsciously gripped the phone tighter, nearly crushing it in his grip. He would know that voice anywhere. 

“Actor.” He greeted, his voice coming out in a hiss. “How did you get my number?” It was a struggle to keep his tone even. His rage was barely concealed, and it only got worse as Celine and Damien rose to the surface of his consciousness. They reacted too, anger and hurt flooding Dark’s senses, nearly blindsiding him.

“I have my ways.” Dark could hear his smirk through the phone. “Are you still upset, old friend? I know it was you who killed my man today.”

Dark said nothing for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “You sent someone to kill me. Did you expect me to take it lying down?” In fact, he knew that that was exactly what Actor had expected, his god complex superseding his common sense. 

Actor made a small clicking noise with his tongue, as if Dark were merely a petulant child that needed to be taught a lesson. “Of course not, dear friend. But, I just wanted to remind you that you’re not the hero of this story. You’re just the villain. And the hero always wins.”

Dark gripped the phone even tighter, his hands shaking, the already greyish skin of his knuckles turning white. “You’re no hero, but if you want a villain, I’ll be your villain.” 

Actor laughed again, his tone haughty as he spoke. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make something beautiful.” Dark heard the dial tone for only a fraction of a second before the phone smashed to a million pieces in his grip. 

Anti had sensed the change in Dark’s auras, even from halfway across their house, well, if you could call it that. It was more of a ramshackle mess, a labyrinth of rooms and tunnels that stretched beneath their warehouse. Nonetheless, even from the other side of it, Anti felt the change.

He made his way over to Dark, just in time to see the other demon smash the phone to bits in his grip, beginning to bleed black blood from the pieces lodged in his hand. He didn’t seem to notice, shaking with a barely controlled rage. Anti knew that there was only one person who could have had Dark in such a state.

“It was Actor, wasn’t it?” Anti asked, and Dark turned to him, his eyes wild.  Anti stood his ground, despite the deep, desperate emotions held there. He looked like a hunted animal, ready to do whatever it took to survive. 

It was startling, seeing the normally well put together man in such a state; his untouchable façade crumbling, giving way to the void inside of him. To describe Dark without describing the word ‘rage’ at the same time was impossible, even though he hid it well. But now it was on full display, the fury radiating off of him in waves. It was almost tangible. 

“When I find that bastard, I’ll make sure he stays dead.” Dark’s voice was glitching, a scream hiding behind each quiet word as his image doubled, tripled, each version becoming larger and more vibrant until it hurt Anti’s eyes to look at them. 

“Dark.” Anti tried to sound confident, but the slightest note of worry cracked his voice. In this state, it didn’t matter. If it got any worse, Dark would be inconsolable, unable to tell friend from foe. He could destroy Anti if he wanted to, and never think twice. Last time they had seen Actor, the man had taunted them, narrowly slipping through their fingers. Dark had leveled half of a city before calming down enough to begin to regret what he had done. He had mourned for a few minutes— less at the loss of life he had caused, and more at the loss of control— before they had moved swiftly onwards.

Dark turned his attention to Anti, startling the glitch into taking half a step backwards before stopping himself. Fighting against his survival instinct, Anti took one step towards Dark and then another. He reached out for Dark’s hand, fully aware that if Dark rejected him, he would be far too close to avoid a direct hit. 

Dark didn’t reject him, letting the glitch take his hand. He watched as Anti, emboldened by the acceptance, took another step closer. Part of him told him to reach out and snap the intruding man’s neck. But another part of him that rose up past the rage that blinded him told him to wait. There would be time for that if an attack was to come. Anti’s steps were cautious, every move calculated to avoid a disaster. They weren’t the movements of a hunter, waiting for a chance to attack. Rather, they were the cautious movements of a frightened deer, afraid that the hunter was lying in wait. 

Dark realized that he was the hunter. He was the one in control, the one with the upper hand over the strangely familiar stranger edging closer to him. There was something important hovering just outside the edges of his tunnel vision, but he couldn’t see it. 

Anti was mere inches from Dark, but the other demon’s face was blank, lacking the spark of recognition that he needed to find. Dark was focused only on his rage, ignoring all factors outside of it, and Anti wasn’t even sure if Dark knew him in this moment. It was entirely possible that he didn’t recognize Anti as anything but another potential threat. 

“Dark. . .” Anti said again, his tone soft, his posture nonthreatening. With shaking fingers—when had he started shaking? He didn’t care if Dark killed a few thousand other humans, hopefully also killing Actor in the process — he reached up to touch Dark’s face. The other man flinched, looking for a moment like he was going to shove Anti away, but Anti acted quicker than Dark could process if the gesture was aggressive or kindly. He kissed Dark with all the desperation that was held within him, hundreds of years of not knowing if they would see tomorrow. 

Dark melted under the touch, his mind finally clearing. He grabbed the back of Anti’s head, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. It was a lifeline and Dark was drowning. Anti was the only thing preventing him from losing himself, and the glitch yielded to the role, yielded to Dark, grounding the monochromatic demon. They stayed there for a long moment, maybe only a few seconds, maybe an eternity, until Dark’s auras relaxed. 

Slowly, their effects faded away, withdrawing from the room and instead curling around Anti. They sought out his energy in the same way that Dark himself did, until the danger faded away completely and the only evidence that the situation had happened in the first place was a shattered cell phone and Dark’s bloody hand.

Chapter Text

Dark and Anti’s house was a labyrinth, stretching far beyond what I had previously seen. I had assumed that they either lived in a place completely seperate from the warehouse, or had only lived in the back rooms, like monsters that haunted the nightmares of small children, lurking beneath their beds. 

I had been wrong on both counts. They lived underneath the warehouse, in a maze that I never would have suspected existed, much less have belonged to them. Their home was well-lit, filled with furniture that looked like it came out of a catalogue. It looked expensive from the polished wooden floors, the high ceilings and marble countertops. Despite the sprawling size and dizzying layout, it felt lived-in. It felt like a home, and I could imagine Dark cooking in the kitchen, Anti scrolling through his phone on the couch. 

I wondered how they had made it into a home. They seemed obsessed with privacy, the entrance to their home well-hidden. But at the same time, I was sure that it had not come this way, and equally sure that Dark, sophisticated and proud as he was, would not have installed everything himself. Anti didn’t exactly seem like the blue-collar type either. 

Dark had left me with Anti once we had gotten here, with instructions to watch me that Anti then promptly ignored. It was relieving, in a way, even though it was frustrating. Yes, Anti had left me alone to get lost in the maze of corridors, but he wasn’t treating me like a small child the way that Dark was. One unexpected panic attack didn’t turn me into a porcelain doll, ready to shatter if it was bumped too hard. 

I sighed, irritated, as I wandered into the kitchen. I poked through the cookware in cabinets, frustrated and annoyed. Like most other things in the house, they looked expensive and new. I doubted that any of them had been used more than once. Maybe I could cook something.

Of course, that required knowing what ingredients were in the fridge. I closed the cabinets with a click, walking over to the fridge and opening it. I stood there for a moment, frozen with disbelief, unsure how to react to the contents. 

The fridge was filled with bags of dark red liquid, neatly labeled with a letter, positive or negative, a date, and, occasionally, a neat line of text with a short description. The bags were arranged by date and type, organized in long, clear bins. I swallowed back disgust. At least I knew what I had been delivering last night. And there it was. One of the bags I had delivered sat alone, and even without picking it up, I could see my roommate’s scrawl on the white label, denoting it as “methamphetamine”. 

I couldn’t stop staring, fully aware that I was standing there, still holding the door of the fridge open with my mouth agape. I still wasn’t sure what to feel. The sight disturbed me, but the normalcy of it was just as startling as seeing it in the first place. It was almost like a normal fridge, only with bags of blood instead of fruits and vegetables. It appeared clean and sterile, almost like a fridge in a blood bank, other than the annotations marking the bags as either high or low quality or what drugs the donor had been using at the time. 

The door was pushed shut, sliding through my hands. “Don’t leave the fridge open.” Dark’s voice held a note of disdain as he spoke, the disapproval of someone who had said the same thing a hundred times, but his voice was weaker than it had been a few hours ago. He sounded tired, frustrated, angry. “You’re letting the cold out.” 

I turned to face him, worried, but not sure how to express the notion. The first thing I noticed was the bandage around his hand, a dark stain already seeping through the layers of gauze. I reached for it automatically, without thinking, and Dark flinched backwards. “Do not touch me.” His voice distorted slightly as he said the words, irritation permeating his voice. “I can protect you from what’s trying to kill you out there, but I cannot and will not protect you from whatever is in here.” 

His words carried some double meaning that I couldn’t quite grasp, but I felt his sorrow, his fear, crash over me like a wave, knocking the air from my lungs. All I could do was nod, letting his torrent of emotions carry me away with them. I didn’t fight them, letting them drown me and watching the world continue on, as if from far away. 

It was a river during a storm, and I was lying at the bottom, slowly suffocating as I watched the clouds of sorrow pour down into the river made of rage. From here, at the bottom, I could see the cycle. Sorrow condensed into rage, which then rushed away, carving a path through anything in its way before freezing solid into an icy indifference. But this landscape, the beautifully tragic picture that I sat in the heart of, was irrelevant. It wasn’t the water that mattered; it wasn't the river, the storm, the ice that formed and cracked and repeated the cycle over and over again. 

It wasn’t the noise, the violent current that threatened to drown me. It was the deep, empty longing that was the smooth stones at the bottom of the river. It was the fear, the tragedy, the aching pain that held me under, that held him under. He wasn’t a bystander, casually viewing this portrait in a gallery, as much as he’d like to pretend he was. He was the scene and everything held within it.

He was the storm, the river, the ice; was the longing concealed by rage, the pain caused by his own indifference. For a moment, I thought I understood him, as we sat together in the river that was him and was not him at the same time; the tide threatening to sweep us, to sweep the fragile balance, away. 

I spoke to him with an unwarranted confidence, with words I didn’t know how to say any other way but here, in this place that did not exist, in this complex metaphor. “You’ll kill yourself like this.”

He let me reach for his hand, let me touch the bloodstained bandage without pulling away. Dark’s voice was soft when he responded, soft in a way I hadn’t yet heard it. For one moment, he let himself be vulnerable. “Not before I kill him.” 

Before I could ask about who he was referring to, I lost my grip. His hand was ripped from mine, and I was falling. I realized, right before I hit the floor, that while Dark was the entirety of the portrait, he might only ever be the ice.

Chapter Text

“What happened?” 

Dark didn’t answer. Anti’s question was irrelevant, mere background noise to the discussion he was having with Celine and Damien about the same thing. 

“Goddammit, Dark, how am I supposed to do anything if you won’t tell me what happened?” Anti’s tone was sharp, annoyance prickling at the edges of his voice. Still, Dark didn’t answer him, his full attention on Celine instead, hanging on every word she said. Her warnings were more important than Anti’s annoyance, especially since Anti had forever and Celine would not repeat herself. 

“You were supposed to protect her, not let her into your mind again.” Celine chided Dark. “Last time, she disassociated. This time, she passed out. What do you think will happen next time if you’re not careful?” Dark knew that it was his fault, but he still didn’t appreciate the lecture.

“And how was I supposed to know?” He snapped at Celine. “Am I supposed to anticipate this human’s every move?” His irritation was creeping into his voice. He could only take so much vexation, and the combination of Celine and Anti was beginning to take its toll. 

Her stern glare pierced him. “You must, Dark.” Celine’s tone softened, mellowing into a bittersweet sorrow that echoed in Dark’s mind. “There are those who would use that power, not caring about the person who wields it.” 

Dark’s mind lit up with memories as she uttered the words, Celine flooding his senses with her pain. 

Dark saw Celine, standing at the altar as she and Actor had gotten married. They looked happy. Then again, she had been happy, at least back then. But the memory shifted, merging into one where she had been tired, frustrated. Celine hadn’t understood why she had to fight Actor about her work as a clairvoyant, and she was angry at the double standard he held over her. He was able to work, he was able to do whatever he wanted, but she wasn’t allowed to do what had kept her afloat her entire life. She had always been mocked, doubted, judged, and she had thought that Actor was different. But he didn’t want her abilities in his house, at least, not until she had seen what was waiting for him. 

Celine had seen great success—power, money, fame—anything and everything he could have wanted. And she told him that, in a desperate hope that he would let her use her ability again. But he denied that hope, clutching her tightly to himself. He had doubled down his defenses, leaving her so alone. He had claimed that he was protecting her. And maybe, she had wanted to believe him a little too much. She still loved him after all, despite how controlling he was becoming. 

 And maybe that love was why she had denied whatever else she saw,  the beginning of something much darker. It hadn’t been enough. She shut it out, but it still haunted her in flashes, just as it still haunted her now. If she had paid attention to the evil growing inside of Actor, could she have changed him? Could she have saved everyone else?

Despite her reminiscence of a past that she could not change, the memories moved on.

Now, it was Celine and Wilford. At that time, he had only been Colonel Barnum, had only been Will. Actor had changed all of that, but that wasn’t until much later. This memory was sweet, marred only by the tinge of bitterness and anger that Celine felt. The bitterness that could only be felt by someone looking back and realizing that she didn’t make the most of it, that she was running out of time and hadn’t even known it. Dark watched the memory as Will had convinced Celine to leave Actor, to leave the life she was miserable in. 

She had divorced Actor, and not two months later, she had begun a relationship with Will. How could she not have, when he had been able to see what she hadn’t, and had given her the courage to change? He had given her air when she was suffocating, had brought her back to life when she was nearly dead. And she saw in him what everyone else missed. She saw the kind, intelligent man beneath the scars that crossed both his mind and his skin like ribbons.

Had that been the tipping point? Had that been where it had all gone wrong and the past had become the present? Had her actions set Actor on a collision course with his tragic destiny that had impacted so many?

Celine didn’t have that answer. She had been blinded by her anger; blinded by her love, her hate, her self-righteousness. She had let herself be Icarus, and soar too close to the sun.

She had believed that Actor would let her go. 

Now came the memories that Dark knew better. They sharpened from a grainy photo, a blur of emotion, to a movie with a tragic ending. Celine, begging Will and Damien not to go to the party that Actor had invited them to. They had both assured her that nothing was wrong, that Actor harboured no ill will towards them or her. 

She had declined their invitations to go with them, not believing the words that Actor had said for one second. Helpless, she watched her lover and her brother leave for what she now knew was the last time. And then, when her visions had grown too strong, the creeping fear that something was horribly wrong set in; she had left too, arriving at Actor’s mansion in the middle of a murder investigation. 

She saw what no one else could, the evil that was the house and everything held within it. The hundreds of entities trapped inside. She saw Actor, dead but not gone, and he had seen her. It was a race against time, a race to cleanse the house and free everyone inside, including him.

But she had lost. And instead of freeing those trapped inside of Actor’s web, she had trapped another person, a district attorney who had had nothing to do with Actor’s revenge. They hadn’t deserved to die. 

Even if they killed Actor and reversed all the damage he had ever done, it would never be enough. Not for her, and not for anyone who had ever been cursed by what had happened. She and Damien were broken beyond fixing, trapped within Dark. Will had become warped, a fragmented shell of his former self. The detective, Abe, was dead, or at least something close to it, and Damien’s friend, the district attorney, was confined to their own personal purgatory in the house that had such a sick sense of humor. 

As for the man himself, Actor, she blamed herself. She could have stopped what had happened if she had just stayed with him. He had been being corrupted, even then, as soon as that house had once again held him in its clutches. She should have helped him, but instead she ran away. 

She loved Actor as much as she hated him, a deep longing that had never quite faded, and she hated herself even more. She would never forgive him for what he had done, for giving in and hurting everyone around him, just as she would never forgive herself for leaving him to accept that fate, seemingly the only one before him, with no way out. 

For a long moment, Celine said nothing, basking in the open, festering wound that was her feelings for Actor. When she did speak, it was in a quiet, subdued tone that belied her sorrow and regret. “Actor, if he finds her, will use her, and not just against us. He doesn’t care who he destroys to reach his goals, Dark. He doesn’t care at all. You have to teach her to be cautious, not to trust him, no matter what poison drips from his mouth.”  

Dark watched her disappear once more before turning to lock eyes with an irritated Anti. “Are you going to tell me what happened now?” The glitch crackled. 

Dark glanced at the bandage covering his hand and the black ichor seeping through it before offering his hand to Anti. He winced as the other touched it, confusion and worry superseding his anger. He glanced back up at Dark, who simply grimaced. 

“Same snake, different skin.”

Chapter Text

Andrew’s phone vibrated, and he sighed. It was his day off, and he really hoped that the owners of the coffee shop weren’t about to call him in to cover another one of Y/n’s shifts. She had taken time off, or at least Dark and Anti had taken time off for her , and so there were several shifts that he had needed to cover in the past few days. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the overtime he was working, or the pay, but the eerie feeling of emptiness haunted him.

He kept expecting her to be there when he turned around, was always ready to tell her a story or a joke, but she wasn’t there. Her absence hurt him more than anything else, worry nagging at him day and night. He couldn’t sleep, even if he tried, for fear of the silence that greeted him everywhere he went. 

At work, there was no cheery voice taking the orders, no constantly stocked display cases of baked treats. The cases were always half empty and the baked goods were cold. The smell of sugar cookies no longer held sway over him like they had when she had baked them. He didn’t take any home with him when he closed up, instead leaving the cookies in the case, a constant reminder of what was missing in his life. He opened alone, and closed alone, drowning his sorrow in a suffocating silence.

There was no Y/n to take to restaurants or movies when she needed a break, but couldn’t fit it into her limited budget. Y/n wasn’t there for him to check in on, to see whether she would be able to make ends meet that month; there was no need to put a little more money on her paycheck and a little less on his. 

There were no texts or missed calls from her either, and Andrew couldn’t help but wonder if they still walked the same earth, or if she was buried underneath it for his betrayal of his ideals. He had sold his life, and so much more, to Actor. If Dark and Anti had found out, would they have assumed that she was a part of all of it too? Andrew knew that if that was the case, she would be better off dead. He had heard the stories.

So, in the end, he was relieved to check his texts and find that it was only Actor that had texted him, not his work or the police or a hospital. 

“Be here in ten minutes, I don’t care what you’re doing, this is more important.”

Andrew let himself smile slightly, texting back a quick affirmation before turning his phone off. Maybe a visit to his lover would do him some good after the self-inflicted isolation he had been experiencing.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was doing anything, and even if he was, he was used to this by now. Andrew had grown used to both Actor’s blatant disregard of whatever he might be doing, and the other’s paranoia. It was just something he had had to learn to live with.

Entirely too eager for what might just be a meeting, Andrew got in his car and started it. He pulled onto the freeway, checking behind him the entire way to Actor’s to make sure he wasn’t being tailed. That was yet another thing that he had gotten used to. Andrew hadn’t understood Actor’s paranoia until he, himself, was almost shot, merely for being the man’s lover. 

There had been a terrifying moment where he had thought he was going to die, the angry man with a pink moustache pointing a trembling revolver at him. Andrew had been afraid, and had seen the same fear reflected in his would-be killer’s eyes. There had been anger, fear, pain, all written across the man’s face. 

A shot rang out.

The man stumbled backwards, pressing his hand against his torso. He looked down, grimacing and murmuring something unintelligible. Then, he had looked up through eyes filled with pain, a sorrow that Andrew couldn’t fathom. “You can’t change the past. . .” A sad smile graced his face as he uttered the words, like he was having a sudden moment of clarity. “You can tell all the stories you want to tell, it won’t change what happened.”

Actor, who had fired the shot from behind Andrew, lowered his gun at that moment. “You’re wrong, William.” His voice was soft. “I’ll rewrite my story, our story, however I want. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Andrew, confused, had turned back to the man, William. “If I can’t, I know who can.” He had said. “After all, it’s all just a game. . . isn’t it?” And then he disappeared into thin air. 

Andrew had only realized after that the man who had shot him had also looked eerily similar to Actor. There was something he was missing, he knew it, something that involved people that looked like his lover and bore a resentment against him. He had asked Actor about it once, but the man had merely brushed it off as a coincidence. Andrew had tried to ask again, but Actor somehow managed to. . . take his mind off of it every single time. 

Andrew did his best to put the whole situation out of his mind once more as he pulled into the deceptively full lot at the entrance to what appeared to be an office building. In reality, most of the cars were Actor’s, put there for show, and the office building was just a front.

At the moment, the answer to Andrew’s questions didn’t matter, and there was no point in rehashing an issue that Actor wouldn’t address. He sighed, pushing the thoughts away once more, grabbed his keycard and burner phone from under his seat, got out of his car, and headed for the building. 

He had to stay focused at the moment. There would only be a few reasons that Actor needed him urgently, and he already knew them by heart. 

Essentially, this could go one of two ways. Either way, he wouldn’t be going home tonight.

Chapter Text

Once the door in the middle “elevator” closed, Andrew swiped his keycard. The reader was cleverly hidden in what would otherwise look like a normal slot between two elevator panels, concealing the world that hid behind the offices. The opposite door of the elevator—the one that would typically lead to nothing—opened, leading Andrew into a second, well decorated lobby. 

Putting away his keys, Andrew looked around for a moment, hoping to see Actor. There were already a few groups of people that Andrew could pick out—potential hitmen, people who probably had a meeting with Actor, and other members of the mafia—but Actor wasn’t among them. Andrew scanned the lobby, walking over to the wall to avoid being in anyone’s way, and he eventually saw the man he was looking for. Actor was in a far corner of the lobby, far away from most of the other people. He was engaged in conversation with another man, one who wore his sorrow on his face. For a moment, Andrew felt a pang of jealousy, and he contemplated leaving. Clearly, Actor didn’t need him here. 

But then, as if sensing both his presence and his thoughts from across the room, Actor turned and caught Andrew’s eye. He offered Andrew a warm smile, motioning for him to come over and join the conversation, and Andrew felt a familiar warmth spread through his chest. 

Before he even thought about joining Actor, he was already moving, had already halved the distance between them. Even if he had wanted to stop, for some strange reason that he couldn’t fathom, it would be too late now. 

“Andrew.” Actor greeted him in an amiable tone that was almost out of place for the man. “This is Chase.” Andrew turned towards the man in question, noting the juxtaposition between him and Actor. Where as Actor was mostly clean shaven and wore a suit, Chase had on a t-shirt and jeans, an old baseball cap covering his dark hair. He had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days, maybe weeks, and a short, messy beard covered the bottom half of his face. “Chase, this is Andrew.”

Andrew smiled at Chase, offering a hand to the other to shake. Chase stared at it for a long moment before shaking it, looking up and greeting Andrew with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey. Nice to meet you.” His voice was cheerful, but it sounded fake, tense, like he would rather be anywhere but here. 

Andrew was about to say something when Actor cut in. “Chase, if you would be so kind as to wait in the conference room down the hall to your right, we can continue this conversation in. . .” Actor made a show of checking his expensive watch, a move that Andrew knew was only to make others feel inferior. “About an hour.”

Chase’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “Sure.” He reached up and adjusted his cap, pulling it down low over his face as he turned. Actor watched him go, walking into the room he had pointed out before turning to Andrew. 

“I need to talk to you.” He said. His voice was normal again, his tone cool and smooth. “I trust you know the way to my office.” Andrew nodded, and Actor smiled. “Good. I’ll be there in ten minutes. I have to deal with a few people first.”

Andrew knew that he was talking about the other people in the lobby, both the elite and contract killers gathered and waiting for his attention. He watched as Actor walked over and mingled with them, assuming a different mask for each conversation. He sighed as he walked away, towards a quieter section of the secret part of the building.

He opened the door to Actor’s office, standing in the doorway for a minute and watching the afternoon sunlight stream through the window. He closed the door behind him, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Actor’s desk. The office was immaculate, a stark contrast to the discussions that Andrew had so often heard in the room. But, then again, it was all about appearances. Andrew knew that Actor liked to keep up appearances, but he didn’t understand why Actor felt the need to devote so much time and energy to keep up a front.

He knew that Actor wasn’t quite human, and, although it might not have bothered the man personally, he spent far too much time obsessing over the image he portrayed. He wanted to be seen as human, and Andrew suspected that it had something to do with blending into the background.

After all, any good actor would know how to take center stage and how to play an extra. Actor was the hero, but he knew when the time was right to disappear into the background.

Actor wasn’t like Dark or Anti, didn’t embrace whatever curse had left him suspended in time, never aging and never moving on. He fought against his own darkness, doing his best to rid the world of the influence of Dark and Anti, demons who held no care for human life. It made Andrew sad, to know that Actor would never have the normal life that he seemed to crave. Andrew was only twenty-five, but he would age and eventually die. Meanwhile, Actor was in his early thirties, but he would stay that age for the rest of eternity. 

It must have been painful for the man, to watch those around him age, the years slipping through their fingers as he remained unchanged. Maybe that was why he was still so cold to Andrew sometimes, knowing that one day, he too would disappear from the world.

He was snapped out of his depressing thoughts, thankfully, by Actor opening and closing the door to his office. “Actor. . .” Andrew breathed, caught up, once more, in his lover’s beauty in the sunlight that painted the room. Andrew heard the sound of the lock on the door clicking into place before the other man turned to him.

“You followed directions so well, Andrew.” Actor praised, walking over to the younger man. “Good boy.” He cupped Andrew’s face in his hand, tilting his head upwards before leaning over to press a soft kiss against Andrew’s lips. 

The kiss quickly turned hungry as Andrew stood, only breaking contact with Actor for a moment, and grabbed the lapels of Actor’s suit jacket, pulling him back in. Actor’s hands, in turn, slipped under Andrew’s shirt, resting on his sides. 

They broke apart for but another moment, Actor’s hands sliding up Andrew’s shirt and stripping it off of him. His hands ran across Andrew’s chest for a moment before he allowed Andrew to remove his suit jacket, undershirt, and tie. They crumpled in a pile on the floor, where Actor left them. He was too busy to care, both Actor’s and Andrew’s hands exploring exposed skin, their lips crashing against each other’s like waves. 

Actor pulled away first, sweeping his arm across his desk and sending everything on it crashing to the floor. Pens, pencils, and paperclips decorated the ground like confetti; papers floated in the air for a moment before gravity pulled them to the ground. The pencil sharpener had broken open when it bounced on the floor, scattering the shavings on the carpet, intermixing with the other various office supplies lying there. It was a miracle the lamp hadn’t broken, that glass and ceramic shards weren’t in the beautiful, chaotic, mess that Actor had created—

Andrew didn’t finish the thought, Actor slamming him into the surface of the newly cleared desk. He gazed up into the other’s dark eyes for a long moment; hyper aware of the cool laminate against his back, of Actor’s hands on his shoulders, pinning him down. Actor’s dark hair fell to one side as he leaned down to kiss Andrew, framing his face. With the light behind him, it was enough to make him look like a fallen angel, a god who had come down to earth just long enough to grace Andrew’s life. It brushed against Andrew’s face as he leaned closer, close enough for Andrew to feel his breath on his skin. 

Actor pressed a chaste kiss to Andrew’s lips, trailing kisses across the other’s jawline, down his neck, and across his chest. Deft fingers undid the button on Andrew’s pants and pulled down the zipper, helping him take them off and exposing him. He looked up, a smirk on his face, as he took Andrew in his mouth. Andrew tensed, clenching his fists and fighting the urge to grab Actor’s hair. There was something evocative in Actor’s teasing, in the foreplay that was both agonizing and delicious. 

He wanted Actor to get on with it already, but he knew, all too well, that it wasn’t his decision to make. He moaned quietly as Actor licked the head of his cock, expertly stimulating him and sending shocks through his body. His lover was experienced, experienced in a way that Andrew was sure he would never learn in one lifetime. A moment before Andrew was sure he was about to cum, Actor pulled away. 

Andrew bit back a curse as the tide that had been building within him receded, his building orgasm ruined by the very man bringing him that pleasure in the first place. His disappointment showed on his face, he knew, even before Actor laughed at him. Agonizingly slowly, Actor wrapped his hand around Andrew’s dick, stroking it slowly, and Andrew felt the sensation rise in him again. But once again, mere seconds before it crashed over him, Actor pulled away.

Actor leaned down to kiss Andrew, who squirmed against Actor’s body, hoping for any friction he could get. Actor, having already anticipated this, laughed, pinning Andrew’s wrists down to the desk as he hovered above. His eyes held a sadistic glint now, knowing that Andrew was at his mercy. “I’m sorry, did you want to cum?” His tone was mocking, and Andrew knew that he wasn’t sorry at all.

“Actor, fuck, please. . .” Andrew pleaded, staring up at his lover, his god , leaning over him. Actor laughed, a sharp, derisive sound, shifting so that he held both of Andrew’s wrists in one hand. He let his free hand drift down to brush against Andrew’s painfully hard cock, and Andrew, craving the stimulation, involuntarily met his touch. 

Actor pulled his touch away, leaving Andrew wanting once more. “Actor! Fuck—” Andrew cursed. He was desperate at this point, and they both knew it, but Actor’s resolve didn’t waiver.

“Look at you.” Actor sneered. “So fucking desperate. I touch you, and you turn into such a slut.” As if to prove his point, he ghosted one finger up Andrew’s shaft, making him shudder in an agonizing bout of pleasure. “You’d be so happy no matter what I did to you. You’re such a whore.” 

Andrew, struck dumb with need, nodded along to Actor’s words. He needed Actor to let him cum, needed it more than he needed anything else. He felt the dull pain of one of Actor’s nails carving a path up his chest, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He had never been much of a masochist before, but with Actor, it was different. 

Actor always knew when it was too much, and just the right way to touch him to make him cum. He could feel Actor’s hand around his neck, not squeezing, but a delicious threat.

“Do you want to cum?” Actor asked him condescendingly. “Did you want me to choke you and touch you and claim you like the slut you are?” Again, Andrew nodded, not fully understanding what he was being asked, but agreeing all the same. He wanted whatever it was that Actor wanted, wanted to please his lover and receive pleasure in return. 

He felt Actor’s grip around his neck tighten as he released Andrew’s hands. “Then cum for me.” Actor whispered, using his newly freed hand to grip Andrew’s shaft. 

Andrew couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as he came for his lover, Actor working him through his orgasm. All of the pain that he had had to go through to get to this point was worth it, everything was worth it for this moment. He was dimly aware of Actor choking him harder, of breathy moans that he then realized were his, but everything else was white, was nothing more than a haze of pleasure.

When he came down from his high, he was gasping for air despite the fact that Actor had stopped choking him somewhere in the middle of it all. Actor himself was sitting in the chair behind the barren desk, watching as Andrew came back to himself. He smirked as Andrew’s eyes widened, seeing him again. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Actor asked him, and Andrew nodded, his eyes focused on the erection in the other man’s dress pants. “Good boy. Now, show me how much you enjoyed yourself.”

Chapter Text

Andrew was quick to comply, sliding off the desk to settle on his knees in front of Actor. Looking up to him for permission, Andrew unbuttoned and unzipped Actor’s pants, pulling them off of him. The man in question said nothing, letting Andrew undress him the rest of the way and his pants land somewhere in the mess that had previously been an immaculate office before he spoke. “What a good slut.” Lust dripped off of each word, and Andrew felt his cheeks heat up. Andrew hadn’t ever enjoyed being hurt or degraded before he had met Actor. He had only ever had vanilla sex with his partners, and hadn’t seen the need to change his sexual appetites. Actor had introduced him to a whole new world, slowly at first, and then with growing excitement as Andrew showed more and more interest. Now, he couldn’t get enough.

Andrew, encouraged by Actor’s words, kissed the head of his cock before carefully taking him in his mouth. He worked his way down Actor’s cock, paying careful attention to how his lover responded to his every movement. Actor grabbed the back of Andrew’s head, tangling his hand in Andrew’s hair, but not applying pressure. He watched Andrew as the other male used his mouth to pleasure Actor, occasionally guiding Andrew, but doing nothing more. 

Andrew, for his part, enjoyed the entire ordeal. There was something intimate about being on his knees in front of his lover, something humiliating that Actor never seemed to experience. Maybe that was just another thing that separated them, but somehow brought them closer together. Actor dominated everything in his life, including Andrew, while Andrew was more than happy to take on the subservient role. They fit together, both in business and personal affairs, like two puzzle pieces. Made to click neatly together. If Andrew had believed in God, he might have thought that this was the way it was supposed to be.

Of course, he had never been religious. Being down on his knees in front of Actor was the only time that he ever caught a glimpse of what some might have called ‘God’. If there was a god, surely it must be Actor, and Andrew was more than happy to give his devotion. Of course, no faith would be complete without some form of worship and penitence. Actor absolved him of all his sins, and Andrew blindly followed him, much like the original twelve had done for Jesus.

Andrew was pulled out of his thoughts by a nearly silent exhale of pleasure from Actor. If Andrew hadn’t done this so many times before, he might have missed the noise. As it was though, he caught it, and he knew that the other man was enjoying himself. Of course, Actor wasn’t the only one. Andrew found himself growing hard again as well, turned on by Actor’s quiet dominance of him. 

Andrew felt a wave of power surge over him. He pulled away from Actor, remembering his actions from earlier when their positions had been reversed. He was the one in control now, and, although he still would have done anything had Actor told him to, he relished the power. He knew that Chase was waiting for Actor, but Andrew didn’t care. He let the envy and jealousy that he had felt earlier wash over him, fueling his resolve to keep Actor with him as long as possible. After all, Actor had been his first, and would be his long after Chase was gone.

Andrew brushed his thumb over the head of Actor’s cock, making Actor hiss quietly. He opened his eyes ever so slightly, darkness focusing on Andrew and captivating him. “You’re such a tease.” The man hissed. “I should bend you over the desk and fuck you right now, put you back in your place.” 

Andrew’s cheeks flushed, but he held Actor’s steely gaze. “Then do it.” His voice wavered, more eager than he had wanted to sound, but he had said it. The statement hung in the air for a minute before Actor closed his eyes again, leaning back in the chair with a quiet moan as Andrew stroked his cock. 

“No.” Actor’s voice wavered too, giving away his obvious lust as his hand tightened in Andrew’s hair. His restraint was obvious in the way his hand trembled, just barely holding back from pushing Andrew back onto his dick. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to be fucked back into submission and cum until you can’t even stand on your own.” Andrew felt his breath hitch at the image of Actor fucking him until he couldn’t walk. The thought was so erotic that it wasn’t until Actor spoke again that he was brought back to reality. “If you can be a good boy and make me cum, then I’ll consider it. But if you’re too much of a greedy slut and cum before I do, then I’m not going to fuck you.” 

It was a test of willpower, the kind that Andrew had become accustomed to since meeting Actor. It wasn’t the first time that he had faced a similar situation, or the first time that he had been left wanting by Actor. Even when he was the one who was being serviced, Actor was in control, and he had reminded Andrew of that, putting him back in his place. 

With the incentive that he had just been offered, Andrew abandoned the idea of edging Actor, instead opting for the more direct approach that he had used before. He took Actor back in his mouth, redoubling his efforts to pleasure his lover and letting all other thoughts drift away. 

Actor murmured quiet praise that Andrew couldn’t quite hear, but he shivered as Actor touched him, his hands running over Andrew’s arms, back, chest. Every touch left a burning trail in its wake, distracting Andrew from what he was doing. Andrew forced himself to focus, wanting more than anything to make Actor cum. He wanted to be fucked, yes, but more than that, he wanted to pleasure Actor. He wanted to hear Actor’s quiet moans and the affirmation that he had satisfied his lover. 

It always took Actor at least twice as long as it took Andrew to cum, but not because of lack of trying on Andrew’s part. It was because Actor was so much more experienced than Andrew was or would ever be, because he had so much more self-control than his lover. Maybe it was because of this that Andrew felt so much pride in the moments when Actor praised him. An affirmation that he was enough.

Andrew felt Actor’s grip tighten again, and knew that he was close. He let Actor push his head down, taking his lover’s entire cock as Actor came. Both of them were breathing heavily as Actor released Andrew and Andrew pulled back, steadying himself by placing his shaking hands on Actor’s knees. 

They both sat there for a minute, not moving, not saying anything, before Actor stood, grabbing Andrew and pulling him up as well. Andrew still hadn’t caught his breath, but it didn’t seem like Actor cared. He wasn’t particularly gentle as he pushed Andrew onto the desk, and Andrew found that he didn’t really care either. 

He heard Actor’s desk drawer opening and fought the urge to ask questions. He already knew what Actor was getting, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to know. Actor’s hand was around his neck before he could say anything, their bodies pressed together. Actor’s voice was barely a whisper as he got impossibly closer to Andrew, choking him lightly. “Tell me how much you need me.” He said, his tone low and dark. “Tell me how much of a filthy whore you are and how much you need me inside of you.” 

As he spoke, Andrew felt the light pressure that Actor had been applying to his throat vanish entirely. In its place, he felt the cool brush of silk on his face. He instinctively closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his vision was obscured by a swath of cloth. He felt Actor tying his hands behind his back with another length of cloth, and relaxed. It wasn’t the first time that Actor had tied him up, and he had to admit that even though it unsettled him at first, there was something about being restrained and having to rely on Actor entirely that turned him on. 

“Please. . .” His voice was quiet but lustful as he begged Actor. “Please, master, please fuck me.” He heard a quiet hum of approval at his use of the title as Actor lightly skimmed his fingertips over Andrew’s ass. 

“Do you deserve to be fucked?” Actor asked him. “You’ve been such a needy little slut today, thinking that you were in control just because I let you suck me off. I don’t think you deserve to be rewarded. I think you need to be punished.” Andrew whined as Actor touched his cock, his mind going hazy with need. “Even now, all you can think about is getting off.” Actor continued. “Maybe, if you take your punishment like a good slut, I’ll fuck you. What do you think about that?”

Andrew fought to listen to Actor’s words, and, after he finally processed them, he nodded. “P-please. . .” He moaned. “Please punish me. Please fuck me.” He heard Actor make another appreciative noise at his eagerness to please him. He was going to say something else, but when Actor’s hand hit his ass, he forgot whatever it was that he had been thinking about. 

Andrew’s moans grew louder as Actor continued to spank him, and, not for the first time, he was thankful that the office was soundproofed. His ass stung, and the pain went straight to his painfully hard cock. He couldn’t count the number of blows that Actor inflicted upon him, but after some point, Actor’s hand no longer came down on him. 

Andrew whimpered at the loss of contact, and Actor felt his cock growing hard. The ‘punishment’ he was inflicting upon the younger man wasn’t without its effects on him too. He reached over to the smooth column of Andrew’s neck, admiring how Andrew swallowed hard as he ran his fingers along the side of it. “I’m going to cut you.” Actor whispered, and for a moment Andrew hesitated. Actor wondered, in that moment, if he had pushed too far, and if Andrew’s god worship of him would waver. 

But the younger man nodded, and Actor smirked. He shouldn’t have had any doubts. Andrew idolized Actor. He had killed for the man before and would do it again. If Andrew would have said no, Actor would have respected that. It would have been begrudgingly, as it would have meant that Andrew’s loyalty did not extend as far as Actor had hoped, but he would have accepted it.

As it was, he didn’t have to worry.

Andrew felt the knife bite into the skin of his back, and he moaned. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Of course Actor would never hurt him, and he felt bad for having almost doubted his lover. Those thoughts, his guilt, lasted less than a minute as he lost himself in the pleasure-pain brought about by Actor. He felt his own blood dripping down his back, and knowing that he was safe, safe in his lover’s capable hands, as Actor cut into him, pushed him over the edge. He heard Actor laugh as he came, but it seemed as if it was from a great distance away.

“You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Actor asked him, his voice far away and almost echoey. “You’ve made quite a mess of yourself, you know that? Of course, I expected nothing less.” Andrew felt Actor’s fingers, cold and wet with lube, enter him, stretching him out and preparing him to take his cock. “I think you’ve taken your punishment well enough for me to fuck you. Of course, I don’t think that you really understood that it was supposed to be a punishment. I don’t know that there’s anything in that head of yours at all right now.”

Andrew didn’t protest, too focused on Actor’s fingers preparing him to focus on anything else. He wanted Actor’s cock inside of him, wanted Actor to fuck him and use him and praise him. He felt Actor grip his neck for the third(?) fourth(?) time that afternoon, and he closed his eyes as Actor’s fingers left him, only to be replaced by his cock. 

He moaned as Actor fucked him, choked him, the decreased amount of oxygen making him see stars. He heard Actor moaning his name as he fucked Andrew, god and worshiper becoming one entity for a few long minutes that stretched into an eternity. 

It wasn’t long enough, would never be long enough, and it was over before Andrew was ready, both of them climaxing and coming back down to earth from whatever shared paradise they’d held for the short time that they’d been joined together. 

As per usual, Actor was the first to recover, pulling out of Andrew and standing up. He untied Andrew, and the other blinked against the harsh light. They had made a mess. Both of them were splattered with Andrew’s blood and someone’s cum, the polished surface of the desk was covered in blood and sweat and cum, and the room was still a battlezone of everything that had once been on the desk. 

Actor helped Andrew to the bathroom, turning the shower on and helping Andrew into it as well. He was efficient, washing both himself and Andrew off, but his hands lingered on Andrew’s body for longer than was strictly necessary. Neither of them said anything. There were no words that needed to be exchanged between them after such an intimate act had connected them. 

It wasn’t until they had both cleaned up, Actor bandaging Andrew’s cuts and helping him get dressed, and the room was clean that Actor said anything. “Stay with me tonight.” 

Andrew considered the possibility, turning it over in his tired brain for only a moment. Sometimes staying with Actor meant business, sometimes sex. But it seemed like the man had something else in mind. “Okay.” He replied.

“Come with me to the meeting too. I need you to talk to Chase about something.” Andrew sighed before agreeing to that too. It was a hazard of mixing business with pleasure. The two became knotted so intricately that one could not come without the other tagging along. 

Speaking of the meeting—Andrew glanced at the clock as Actor rebuttoned his suit, straightening it out. Actor was late for the meeting. Very late. “You were supposed to meet with Chase almost an hour ago.”

Actor laughed derisively as he helped Andrew into his clothes. “Good. Then he’ll be fine waiting another few minutes.” Warmth bloomed in Andrew’s chest as Actor kissed him. And, somehow, he couldn’t seem to make himself care about the man waiting in the other room.

Chapter Text

Chase glanced at the clock again nervously. His palms were sweaty, the cut crystal of the glass he was holding dangerously close to slipping through his hands. Actor had said he would rejoin Chase in around an hour, and it had already been nearly two and a half. He took another sip of his whiskey and looked at his cell phone. The lock screen, a picture of his kids, devoid of any notifications, made him almost miss the days when Stacy had texted him, called him—over and over and over again—angrily and incessantly. They had argued about everything—everything from money, to their marriage, to the house, to his alcohol problem. Of course, that one had only gotten worse now that they were gone. 

But he’d take it all back, do it all again—the fights, the struggles, the late nights. . . the crying, the papers, the half empty bottles—if only he could have them back. He brushed away a few stray tears that had fallen, taking a deep breath. That was why he was here. To take it all back. He could only hope that he wasn’t too late. 

Scrolling through his contacts list, he realized how much had been taken from him. Henrik, the good doctor, had vanished some time ago, his number no longer in service. It had been a staggering blow to Chase at the time, as Henrik had been a close friend of his. But allegiances change; places change, and so do people. He had assumed that the doctor had simply moved on to a new place with new faces. But then it was Marvin. Marvin, with his sharp tongue and quick wit, acidic quips and love of art, who studied magic as some might have studied maths or history. 

Marvin hadn’t been seen in nearly a century, not anywhere by anyone. After Henrik’s disappearance, Chase had kept his ear close to the ground for information, but he heard nothing. One by one, his friends had disappeared. They fizzled out like dying streetlamps, vanishing without a trace, and leaving Chase surrounded by darkness. In that darkness, he could feel the static breathing down his neck. He could feel it closing in on him, drawing closer and closer. . . And Chase worried that he’d be the next to disappear. 

He paused for a moment as he scrolled to what had once been one of his most important contacts. It wasn’t anymore, couldn’t be, another person torn away from him far before he was ready. A lump formed in his throat as he realized how long it had sat there, how long all of the contacts had sat there, empty and meaningless in his phone, because Chase didn’t have the courage to delete them. 

Sean had been his best friend, had always stood by Chase, always believed in him. Sean had helped him when things were hard with Stacy, had given him advice on what to do, what to say, how to smooth things over. But now, he too was gone, snatched away by the voice he had listened to a little too hard, let in a little too much, let speak a little too loud. 

Anti. Anti had taken everything from Chase. His friends—Marvin, Henrik, Sean—his family, his hope. He had become complacent, afraid to become a puzzle piece, just another puppet to be led around on strings. But things had changed. Chase had changed.

He wasn’t the weak, pathetic, idiot that Anti thought he was. He wasn’t going to hide at the bottom of a bottle anymore. If Anti was coming for him, he would come whether or not Chase was drinking himself into his grave. No. It was better to do something. At least try to fight back. And so he had found himself talking to Actor one day, when the sky drenched the Earth in rain as sorrowful as Chase himself. Actor had given him an opportunity. A chance to prove himself, and join the fight. 

It turned out Anti wasn’t alone. And if Anti wasn’t alone, why should Chase be? He had let Actor buy him a coffee, give him his business card, and send him on his way. And now, here he was. Drinking Actor’s expensive whiskey, and waiting.  

He heard the door open, and turned to face the two men who had just entered. Actor looked pristine, still making Chase feel underdressed, whereas the other man, Andrew, looked more disheveled. He seemed more shy and reserved than he had been earlier, his eyes flitting between Actor and his cell phone. 

“So, Chase. . .” Actor started. The man in question pulled on the brim of his cap, nervous at what he was about to be asked. “I want you to work with us, I really do, but first I need to know where your allegiances are. Do you understand me?” Chase nodded, and Actor smiled at him. “Good. Because if you’re planning on double crossing me, then you’ll be no better than that bothersome error message that took everything away from you.” 

Actor’s voice was soft, but it carried a power with it that Chase couldn’t resist. He found himself falling deeper and deeper into the mysterious embrace until it didn’t matter what Actor was saying anymore. Betrayal was a fate worse than death. Betrayal meant he would become like Anti; bitter and cold and unlovable, malicious and reviled. He would be an amoral traitor, an outcast. 

“So what do you want me to do?” He found himself saying. The words were slow leaving his lips and he had to convince himself he wasn’t drunk. Actor held out a hand to Andrew, who placed his cell phone in it, almost reluctantly. Actor pushed the cell phone across the table to Chase. 

On the screen, he could see a picture of a young woman, most likely in her early twenties, posing happily beside Andrew. “Do you know who she is?” Actor asked, and Chase shook his head. “Her name is Y/n L/n, and she’s a little. . . confused about what company she keeps. I need you to find any information you can on her, and if you happen to find her, I’d like to talk to her. Do you understand?”

Chase nodded again, and Actor took the cell phone back, pocketing it. “Good. I’ll expect an update soon. Until then, I trust you can find your own way out.” He stood up, grabbing Andrew’s wrist, and, a few moments later, Chase was alone again with only his whiskey and his thoughts. 

Chapter Text

“I can’t keep eating this forever!” I complained, again, to a rather irritated glitch. This was the third time that Anti and I had had this argument in two days. I had lost track of how many times we had had this same argument this week, but it didn’t seem like I was making any progress. Anti and Dark understood that humans needed to eat, but since they didn’t have to, they didn’t often. That resulted in a poor understanding of how food groups functioned and balanced out to keep a body running. Which led to this, countless arguments on if I could survive on only microwave ramen.

“Why not?” Anti growled. “You’re being unnecessarily complicated. It’s not my fault that you have to do stupid things like eating actual food and sleeping!” 

Dark sighed, putting down the book he was trying to read. “You’re acting like children.” He said. I knew that our arguments had been annoying him, but not to what extent. His tone was irritated, and a crackle was creeping into it. The fighting was testing his patience. “Anti, go to the store today and buy some groceries. If she wants to cook something, she can cook something.” 

Anti started to protest, but Dark shot him a withering glare. “I don’t want to hear it. You should have gone out days ago, if nothing else, then to put in a new order.” That shut him up, if only for a few seconds. 

“We have enough blood right now, why do I need to put a new order in?” He complained. At that, Dark stood up, looking more irritated than ever. Power rolled off of him in waves, his eyes flickering from their normal black to red and blue. At the same time, thin tendrils of the same color popped into existence around him, cracking like whips and stinging my skin where they touched me. Before I had registered it, I had backed up several paces from the counter where I had been arguing with Anti, unwilling to face whatever danger I had just wandered into. 

Anti didn’t share the same reservations. 

He stepped forward, his eyes solid black, black and green pixels crackling around him. Error messages and several series of ones and zeroes flashed just above his skin. His very form seemed to distort and glitch, making him hard to look at. 

“What if they find us?” Dark asked. His voice was level, but it warped, echoing and seeming to twist back on itself. “If we are cut off from the world and we run out of blood, what will you do then?”

“You’re paranoid.” Anti spat back. “If they trap us in here, running out of blood will be the least of our issues.”

Dark shook his head. “If I’m paranoid, then you simply aren’t cautious enough. You think that he’s going to just charge in here? No. He’s too intelligent for that. He would wait to starve us out.”

“Then we’ll find another source of blood.” Anti argued. “You think I’m afraid of him ?”

“Always the fool.” Dark’s tone was full of disdain. “Pretending you aren’t afraid of the obvious danger in front of you.” Anti had no response for that. He simply growled. 

“Fine. Give me the keys. I’ll go get food and make a fucking order.” 

“They’re in the car.”

I took another step back as Anti took a step in my direction, but he simply brushed past me, his static prickling against my skin like tiny needles. It was a long minute before I felt the prickling of his aura vanish from the house, and I assumed he was gone. I took a breath, calming myself, and almost collapsed on the floor. 

Dark closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead as if he had a migraine. He took a few deep breaths, and the red and blue that had sprung to life around him dissipated as quickly as they had appeared. When he opened his eyes again, they were back to their normal dark color. “Y/n.” He said quietly. “Apologies.” 

I gave him a curt, almost mechanical nod and a strained smile. “Of course.” I replied, but the reply was more of an instinct than anything else. I turned to leave, not wanting him to see how badly they had shaken me. 

“Y/n.” Shit. I turned back to look at Dark, who was watching me, trying his best to look impassive. “I would like to talk to you about something.” This couldn’t be good. I forced myself to take one step towards him and then another until I was at the table, only a few inches from him. 

“Will this take long?” I asked, and he looked at me blankly.

“Sit down.” The answer seemed to be a yes. I sat down in the chair next to him, even though my skin crawled and every instinct I had told me to run away. “About your blackout.” 

“I. . .” I didn’t know how to respond to that. Instinct told me that this was a dangerous man, and that I should lie to him. I shouldn’t know anything about him, much less have seen into his mind. I knew that it was unnatural, but I had been hoping that I could pretend it hadn’t happened, ignore it and explain it away someday. 

“The river.” He started, and my heart started to beat faster. Dark himself seemed to be struggling to find the words to describe what he wanted to say. “I. . .” He cut himself off before emotion broke his mask of apathy. “You should be more careful.” He finally said.

“You aren’t the only one, are you?” I asked, startling myself. “In there, I mean.” I barely knew what I was saying, and common sense told me to shut up, but I was far past that point. “There are others. I can feel them.” I reached out to him, but he caught my hand. I expected him to drop it, to react as he did every other time that we had any contact, but he didn’t.

“You cannot tell anyone else.” His voice was quiet. “There are only two others that know.” I had expected a denial, harsh words, anything but this. “Do you understand? The fact that you know this puts you at an even greater risk.” I nodded, looking into the eyes that seemed to be searching my soul. He still didn’t let go of my hand. “Damien and Celine. . . they were robbed of life far too early.” He didn’t offer any more explanation, and I didn’t ask. “If I were you, I would stop looking into my mind.” 

I exhaled, frustrated. “I don’t know how. I don’t even know how it’s happening in the first place, or why. I’ve never experienced something like this before.”

Dark’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch, as if he was realizing the meaning of something he had been told much earlier. He looked past me for a long moment before he finally spoke again. “You’re getting better at it.” It seemed like he was baiting me for a long moment before I realized that what he was saying was true. 

Before, it had always happened when I had had contact with Dark. But I had been holding his hand for maybe a minute, and nothing had happened. “Maybe.” I said doubtfully. “Or maybe it just isn’t working right now.” If whatever strange phenomenon I had been experiencing had suddenly turned itself off, I would be more than grateful.

“Try.” His tone held no room for argument. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and reached out gingerly. It was instinctive and painful, like putting too much weight on a broken bone. 

I took another deep breath, pressing onwards. I could feel Dark next to me, a quiet hum of energy, not unlike a laptop that had just been turned on. I pushed further, exploring the tentative connection, and I felt a wave of emotions.

Pain, concern, worry. Surprise, and then more worry. A feeling of nausea started to build up in my stomach the more I absorbed, but I ignored it, continuing until it became nearly overwhelming. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” A female voice told me. “Turn back.” She sounded calm, but I sensed concern in her tone. “Rome was not built in a day, and neither will this be.” 

I opened my eyes with a start, taking slow, deep breaths until the nausea receded. Dark was studying me carefully, hiding whatever he was thinking behind the mask he wore. “Rome was not built in a day.” He said, echoing the same statement that the woman had. “Whatever this is, it will come in time.” 

I sensed something through a crack in his mask. At first, I thought it was more concern, but I quickly realized that it was something else entirely. It was something that I had seen him express around Anti before, but ignored entirely, possibly because I had assumed that neither of them were capable of such a human emotion. 

Affection. 

Chapter Text

Dark pushed down a flash of annoyance as he heard the car drive in, but in a way, he was also relieved. He was supposed to be guarding the girl, keeping her safe, not forming emotional attachments to her. If Anti was back, then he wouldn’t be tempted to say something he would regret.

After all, he had learned a long time ago that emotional attachments only led to pain. He knew that, Celine knew that, Damien knew that. It was why he kept everyone around him at arm’s length, and why he and Anti pretended that they hated each other. If no emotions were involved, then neither of them would get hurt. 

“Is Anti back?” Y/n asked him, seemingly noticing the change in his demeanor. He sighed, regretting the fact for another brief moment before replying. 

“Did you sense him?” Dark asked. He found that he was curious about if she could pick up the glitchy static of Anti’s thoughts just as well as she picked up on his. He was surprised to find that he hoped that she wasn’t able to. It was a bond that they alone had shared thus far, and the thought of Anti invading it felt wrong somehow. 

She shook her head no, and then hesitated. “Well, maybe a little. I don’t know.” Dark felt himself scowl, but wiped his face blank again. He didn’t think she had noticed, too wrapped up in her own contemplations. “I don’t know how to explain it.” She ended up saying. “The way that you were projecting. . . that changed, and I thought that it might have been Anti.” 

In a way, Dark was relieved, and he chided himself for that relief. There was no reason for him to feel that way. Whatever this was, it wasn’t some sort of intimate act, and he wasn’t in any position to lay claim over any area of her life. No matter how much something in him might want to. 

This was dangerous. It stretched beyond keeping her safe, into a fragile battleground that Dark should not be venturing into. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth again, and he turned away from her. “Stay here.” He ordered. “Anti might need help.” 

Y/n The girl it was safer to keep referring to her like that, wasn’t it? He couldn’t grow attached to someone that he viewed as faceless and nameless reached out to him, but he brushed her hand off of his arm, standing up. “I have work to do.” 

It only took ten minutes for the fighting to resume, and another two for it to annoy Dark once more. He considered ignoring it, but he had already resigned himself to the idea that he was not going to get any work done in this state. He had been trying for twelve minutes, twelve minutes of staring at the papers blankly, reading and rereading them without actually doing anything. 

Scowling, he stood. He was annoyed by the shouting, annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t get any work done, and—more than anything—annoyed with himself. A human should not be this much of a distraction, regardless of who they were. 

His mood only darkened further as he made his way into the kitchen and took in the mess. “Anti, what is this?” He asked, surveying the strange assortment of food that laid on the countertop. 

“You said to buy groceries.” Anti  growled, clearly frustrated. “I bought groceries.” 

“No.” Y/n shot back, her face hot with anger. “You bought junk. I don’t know what you think this is, but these ” she swept her arm in an arc, indicating the chips, candy, and various other items. “Are not groceries.” 

“ I don’t cook.” Anti huffed. “If you want ‘groceries’ so badly, then get them yourself!”  

“I would, if you would let me go anywhere!” Dark saw the situation escalating, Anti’s eyes darkening and his hands twitching. Y/n had no idea how close she was to setting off the glitch, and it would be a mess if he didn’t step in. 

“Enough.” Dark’s voice was calm, but firm. “Anti, did you at least order more blood?” 

The other demon rolled his eyes. “I’m not incompetent.” 

“This is news to me.” Dark said in the same monotone voice. “Y/n, make a list of what you need. We leave in five minutes, and whatever you don’t get will have to wait.”

Anti bristled at the comment, but stalked off to lick his wounds in peace. It was quiet for a moment. “Thank you.” The girl said. 

Dark merely raised an eyebrow. “Five minutes.” He reminded her before going to get the car keys.

It wasn’t a long trip to the store, but it felt like an eternity. Dark kept his eyes mostly on the road, and Y/n stared out the window. Neither of them said anything. She gripped the folded square of paper tightly in her hand, as if she was afraid it would disappear. Even though it had only existed for a short amount of time, it already showed signs of wear, the paper growing thin around its deep creases, wrinkles that had been folded in and smoothed out over and over again. 

“You didn’t have to take me to the store.” The statement was sudden, surprising Dark and distracting him for a moment. 

“I know.” He ended up replying, keeping his focus on the road. It was hard, now that she was talking to him, looking at him, her eyes studying his face. It had been easier to focus when she had been staring out the window and he had just looked over every once in a while to check on her.

“I mean it. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” Her statement was odd, her voice wavering as if she might cry. For a moment, Dark wasn’t sure where she had gotten the idea. Then, he remembered. He was going to strangle Anti. 

“You’re not inconveniencing us.” Dark said, his tone discouraging further discussion on the topic. Still, after a moment, she persisted. 

“You weren’t planning on heading out, though, were you?” If her tone had been harsher, more demanding, Dark might have called it accusatory. As it was, it just came out like a small child who needed to be reassured. 

“Ignore Anti.” Dark wasn’t one for reassurance, but he could cut right to the heart of the problem. “If you take everything he says seriously, you’ll never be able to understand him.” As Dark spoke, he began to realize why Anti had been more stubborn lately, trying to goad both Dark and Y/n alike into arguments. “He’s jealous. He’s used to being the only one around, the center of attention. Give him some time to get used to you.” 

Although she didn’t entirely look like she believed him, Y/n nodded, her fears alleviated at least a little. She went back to staring out the window, and Dark let his thoughts about her, and Anti, consume him. 

Chapter Text

People were staring. I had known they would, but the feeling of their eyes on me still made me uncomfortable. “People are staring.” I whispered to Dark, wishing that I could disappear. 

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Let them stare. It’s the only thing here that’s free.” 

I creased my list for the millionth time, shifting uncomfortably as another customer brushed past me. I tried my best to ignore her, just as I was trying my best to ignore everyone else. It was proving difficult. Dark didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he was used to it. 

I assumed that he was why people were staring. Even if they couldn’t see the grey tint to his skin or feel the coldness he seemed to radiate, he seemed to unsettle people. Not only that, but he was wearing a full suit in the middle of a store where most people weren’t wearing anything that was nicer than jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. 

I checked my list again nervously. I wanted nothing more than to leave. “Do you want to take half of the list and I’ll take half of it?” I asked, and Dark’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“I don’t want to leave you alone.” He said, choosing his words carefully. I suppressed a sigh. Of course.

“Fine. We’re going to go get produce.” I replied. I was annoyed, but as he helped me get vegetables, I quickly realized that I wasn’t annoyed with him. I was annoyed with the situation, annoyed that I was being treated like a child and that I was being stared at by the other customers. It was quickly exhausting me, and I was beginning to wonder if this trip had even been a good idea. We'd barely been there for ten minutes, and I already wanted to leave.

Getting the rest of the groceries wasn’t any easier, especially with Dark right behind me every step of the way, even though he was helpful. I was jumpy, anxious, and, more than anything, I was irritated. 

After half an hour, I had finally gotten almost everything on my list. I just had to get some ingredients for cookies. I missed baking, and even the thought of making sugar cookies relaxed the tension that had been building up in my shoulders since we’d arrived. 

“Do you need chocolate chips?” Dark asked me, and I blinked at him for a minute, before nodding my head. I could make chocolate chip cookies too. Anti would probably like those, right? And hopefully Dark would too. 

“Excuse me.” Someone called, and I turned to the source of the voice. The petite young woman flushed. She seemed to be a little younger than me. “Sorry, but could you get me a bag of chocolate chips too, if you’re already getting one out?” 

Dark wordlessly gave her one. He didn’t seem particularly pleased or displeased to be interacting with her, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. I expected her to leave to finish the rest of her shopping, but she didn’t seem to be inclined to go just yet. “Thanks.” She said, “It’s really nice of you to be helping your girlfriend with shopping. My boyfriend never helps me shop, and it would go so much faster if he did.” 

“Oh, we’re not-” I started, but Dark spoke up, cutting me off.

“Thank you.” His voice was quiet, perhaps even slightly amused. “Apologies for cutting this conversation short, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.” 

The woman, realizing that she must be holding us up, flushed and murmured a quiet apology before hurrying off. Before I could ask Dark any questions about why he didn’t correct her, he was already pushing the cart towards the checkout. By the time I got there, he was paying. 

“Why didn’t you tell her we’re not dating?” I asked him quietly on the way to the car. He shrugged noncommittally. 

“It didn’t seem worth it.”

Chapter Text

“Do you want help?”

“No.” Her tone was clipped, and she didn’t look up at him. Instead, she began to peel the carrots she was working with more aggressively. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

No response. 

It was obvious that she was angry with him, even if he didn't understand why. 

"Did you ask her?" Damien's quiet, reserved tone asked. 

Dark didn't reply. He didn't need to. It was no use feigning ignorance, especially not when Damien knew what he was thinking. He had not asked her. 

"Then why do you think she's upset?" Damien chided him gently, sounding every bit like the mayor he had once been.

Dark didn't answer, opting to deflect by asking a question instead. 

"Is she already seeing someone?" Dark's voice was neutral, the same flat tone that he always used when he pretended not to care. Still, something in him twisted at the thought of Y/n already having a lover, shrinking away from the possibility.

"Dark, I don't have the answers you're looking for." Damien's voice was still light, gentle, a father talking to his child. "If you continue to push her away, she'll leave. You'll never know the answer." 

Dark considered what Damien had said, and what he hadn't. He wasn't just talking about Dark's question of why Y/n was upset, or even if she was seeing someone. The question that Damien referred to was the question that Dark had not dared to voice. 

"Are you seeing someone else?" Dark asked. With great effort, he kept his tone detached, hoping that she wouldn't see right through him as she so often did. 

His question seemed to startle her, and the peeler slipped for a moment, cutting her. A drop of blood beaded on her finger, holding for a moment before it slid down, pooling on the cutting board like a splash of wine. 

"No." She finally said after a moment, and Dark's gaze slid away from her wound to meet her eyes once more. Her tone was acidic, each word slicing into him just as the peeler had sliced into her skin. "I'm not seeing anyone." 

Dark stared at her, assessing her emotional state, and when he didn't respond, Y/n huffed an angry sigh. "You really don't get it, do you?" She accused him. "It's not about that. It's about the back and forth, the hot and cold. I never know where I stand with you!" 

"Y/n-" He started, but she cut him off, her anger mounting.

"Is that who I am to you? Or am I still just 'the girl'?" She spread her arms, gesturing wildly in her exasperation. "Do you care about me, or am I just another responsibility? Because I sure as hell don't know what I am to you, and then you tell me 'it didn't seem worth it' to correct the woman at the store! What am I to you?" 

She was breathless now, her emotional display draining her of the strength that Dark found so admirable. 

"Y/n. . ." He hesitated, his icy mask once again chipping away under her gaze. "I don't know." He finally admitted. Her expression didn't change, but the light in her eyes dimmed. 

"Then I'm leaving." She said, suddenly sounding exhausted. "I didn't ask for this, and I'm so tired of not knowing who I am. Give Anti my regards." 

She brushed past him, and Dark could feel the resignation rolling off of her in waves. It was just like Damien had said. He had pushed too hard, pushed her too far away, and now she was leaving. He would never know the answer. 

"Wait." His voice gave her pause, and she hesitated. She didn't turn to face him, but it was enough. There was still a chance. He could fix his mistake before the fissure that was growing between them became irreparable. 

"What?" Her voice was the coldest he'd ever heard it, completely hollow and dead. Was that what he sounded like to her? 

Before he could think about what he was doing, he was moving towards her. It had been a long time since he had let his emotions guide him like this, a long time since he had made an impulsive decision. Every move he made was based on days, if not weeks or months, of planning. 

There was no time for that now. If he could have stopped time, stalled and thought about what he was doing, he would never have done this. He would have let her leave. 

But, perhaps, even for him, there was a time to listen to reason and a time to abandon it. His heart pounded, the muscle that had stopped beating a long time ago now hammering a staccato in his chest. 

Dark placed his hand on her shoulder, and time seemed to slow as she turned to face him. "Please." He said quietly. 

Her hard expression melted as she searched his face. "Dark. . ." Her voice trailed off as his forehead rested against hers. 

"Please." He repeated, unable to put his request in any other words. She was just a human, after all, and he, himself, wasn’t exactly sure of what he wanted from her. If she didn’t know what she was to him, then he was even more lost than she was. 

But Y/n, in all her glorious, fallible human nature, gazed up into his eyes. And, finding whatever she had been looking for, gave him a barely perceptible nod. “Yes.” 

She had barely breathed the word before Dark was kissing her, kissing her as if she would break if he let her go. He clung to her as if he wasn’t the one that could destroy her in an instant if they weren’t careful, as if he could somehow make her as strong as he was, eliminate the bonds of her fragile mortality that kept them from being one and the same. 

Whatever hesitance he had felt, whatever reservations he had held melted away. The only thing he feared in this moment was that she would pull away from him, that Y/n would still leave after the moment was over. 

He had to let go eventually.

They broke apart, no longer one and the same, the distance between them once again growing, even though Dark still held her in his arms. She was so fragile, painful thoughts crossing his mind about how easily he could absolutely shatter her. 

“Stay.” The single word was soft as it slipped from his mouth, but it still sounded more like an order than he wanted it to. He wanted to order her to stay, wanted to tell her that she couldn’t leave him, but if he did, he would be no better than his enemy. He had seen how Actor had ordered Celine to stay, making her bend to his will. 

Dark was not—would not be—the same as Actor.

“Stay.” He repeated, his tone kinder this time. “Please.” 

She was searching his eyes again, sifting through his soul to find whatever truth lay there. “Alright.” She finally relented. “I will.”

Chapter Text

Anti stared at the ceiling, hearing his own words echo in his ears. “Stab first, ask questions later has always worked for me.” He sighed, annoyed. 

This was not a problem he could solve with his knife, as much as he hated to admit it. Well, he could, but it wouldn’t make him feel better about it. “Talk to her.” Sean suggested, and Anti’s fingers itched to pull out his knife. 

He growled quietly, a low warning for Sean to fuck off and mind his own business. But his former host persisted, unintimidated by Anti’s murderous thoughts towards him. Perhaps it was because without a physical body for Anti to hurt, and with limited knowledge on how to push him out of the space that Anti now inhabited, Sean had grown bolder. 

“Killing her won’t solve anything.” Sean’s voice was quiet in his head, as if he was offering advice. Anti didn’t want his advice. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Anti snarled. He was only growing more pissed at Sean’s interruption of his private thoughts, and his bloodlust grew stronger. He longed to kill something, someone, to calm his rage. Fresh blood flowing over his skin always calmed the near constant tingling under his skin, made whatever thoughts he was thinking fade into nothingness. 

For a moment, he let himself imagine it, stabbing her and letting her blood run over him as she cried out in a delicate balance of pain and pleasure–

Anti cursed, cutting off the fantasy before it could continue. She was just a human! A weak, pathetic human, just as Sean had been before Anti had seized control. She meant nothing to him, nothing— so why did the thought of killing her repulse him? When he thought of her blood on his hands, stab wounds that he had inflicted covering her body, he didn’t feel satisfied. The thought of her death, a human’s death, that would normally fill him with excitement instead made him angry. 

The thought of hurting her was equal parts intoxicating and repulsive, and Anti raked his hand through his hair. Maybe he had just been on edge recently, irritated with the change in the lifestyle that he had grown accustomed to. Maybe he just needed Dark to rail him.

Surely that would clear his head. It always did. 

But the idea, while alluring, still didn’t put her out of Anti’s head. It was frustrating. He lived his life, relying on only two things. Sex and murder. He had never needed anything else, as he had always managed to solve his problems with some combination of the two. But now, he faced a problem that he couldn’t solve with either.

Y/n. She had been nothing but trouble since they had met her, but Anti found that, surprisingly, he didn’t dislike her because of it. In a way, she made his life interesting, but she also frustrated him. He wanted to fuck her, had wanted to since he had seen her in the coffee shop, but that wasn’t all he wanted. 

The way that she argued with him without even thinking to fear for her life intrigued him. Perhaps he could have dismissed it, could have simply called her a fool and moved on, but. . . 

He sighed. There was something else about her. Maybe it was in the way she smiled, or the way her eyes lit up when she was interested in something. Anti was interested in her.

It was a dangerous line to walk. He didn’t want to get involved with a human, not in the least because he was more likely to break her than hold her, more likely to destroy her than love her— which, of course, insinuated that he was even capable of love in the first place. No, he knew that it was dangerous for many other reasons. 

Anti knew that this moment of peace was only temporary, and he knew that even if they were to get involved, by some freak accident, that it would end. She was only here because she had to be. She was in danger, and that was a thin fucking thread, ready to snap at any moment. Anti knew that as soon as she could, she would leave. And if he started something with her, if they became something, he couldn’t just let her go. 

She would belong to him, and he didn’t like others playing with his toys. He wouldn’t let her leave him, wouldn’t let someone else have a prize that he had worked so hard to earn. His possessiveness would turn to paranoia, rage, jealousy. He would become her downfall, and his own. 

“Talk to her.” Sean urged him again. Anti didn’t even respond this time, ignoring the shadow of the man that had once inhabited his body. He needed a drink. Maybe, if he got wasted enough, he would be able to forget about Y/n for the moment, leaving the problem for another time and place. 

Anti pulled himself out of bed, cursing again at his lack of willpower. Even when he wasn’t near her, she occupied his thoughts, limiting his ability to be able to do much else. He really fucking needed that drink. 

As Anti approached the kitchen, intending to grab a bag of blood and leave before he had to talk to her, he heard voices. “Please.” Dark was saying, his voice tinged with desperation.

There was a moment of silence, and then, a response to whatever he had been asking. “Yes.” It was quiet for another long moment before Anti heard his companion draw a ragged breath. 

“Stay.” There was a hint of an order to his voice, and Anti, finding himself intrigued by whatever was happening, crept closer to the kitchen. “Stay.” Dark said again, but it sounded less like an order this time. Then, after another beat. “Please.”

There was just a wall between him and the kitchen now, but Anti didn’t move. He wanted to hear her response. Was Y/n leaving? It would solve his problems if she was, but something in him ached at the thought.

“Alright.” Her voice was quiet, and Anti almost had to strain to hear it. “I will.” He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, hating himself for even being relieved that she was staying. She was still a human, still invading his space and breaking down the cold, comfortable walls that he had built and grown accustomed to. 

Right. The blood. He stepped into the kitchen, hoping that their conversation was over. Instead, he was blindsided by a wave of emotions. 

Dark and Y/n. Dark. And Y/n. He was holding her, their faces separated by less than an inch. Anti had been chiding himself, frustrated at how Y/n was affecting him, while Dark seemed to have no such reservations.

Dark, who was so cold and callous that he and Anti were hesitant to even lean on each other. Dark, who had always walked alone, who had never shown an interest in anyone except for Anti, was kissing Y/n in their kitchen. 

His head spun, hurt and rage pressing against his chest, a tightly wound whirlwind of emotion. And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished. He was free of the discourse that had been raging inside him, liberated by the monochrome demon’s actions. Dark had started something, without even realizing it, and broken the invisible chains that had confined Anti. 

If Dark could kiss her, could start something, then so could he. 

Chapter Text

Dark sensed Anti before he saw him, a strange sense of victory rolling off the other demon, tinged with hurt and anger. He knew that he should have talked to Anti, should have discussed this with him before it had happened, but it had all happened so suddenly. It had to happen suddenly. 

He didn’t owe Anti an explanation for his actions, just as Anti wouldn’t have owed Dark an explanation if their roles were reversed. They weren’t exclusive by any means, and Dark knew that Anti had seen multiple other people during their time together as. . . companions. 

And what of the sense of victory that was pouring off of Anti as if he had just been handed a prize? 

Dark’s head ached as he tried to detangle the complicated mess. He could understand Anti’s anger, maybe even Anti’s hurt at the situation, but not why the other demon seemed satisfied. He disentangled himself from Y/n, ignoring how his chest contracted as he broke contact. He took a step back. 

He needed space to think, needed his judgment to not be clouded by the overwhelming urge to touch her, by the memory of how her lips had felt pressed against his own. He wanted her, needed her, and if he indulged himself again in this moment, he would lose his train of thought. He would never be able to figure out what was going on between the three of them and how both he and Anti felt about it.

As soon as Dark stepped away, Anti was standing where he had been only a moment before. He simply couldn’t help himself. Something about seeing Dark kissing Y/n had made him seethe, but not just because Dark was his. She was Anti’s too—even if she didn’t know it yet—and being denied what was rightfully his only made him want her more. 

Anti thought there was some stupid human saying, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' or something like that, but he didn’t really care. He wanted her, wanted to kiss her, to fuck her, and he wanted her now. He didn’t give a fuck about whatever repercussions would follow, not that he ever had before either. No, what was important now wasn’t how this would change things, it was evening the score. 

He grabbed her waist, his hands finding their way under her shirt, and lifted her up onto the counter. The small sound of shock that she made was enough to encourage him, a smirk creeping across his face and his pulse racing. One of his hands slid a little further up her shirt while the other made its way to the base of her neck. He wrapped his fingers around the smooth column of skin, pleased with how it yielded in his grip. 

He pressed his lips against hers hungrily, his tongue running across her bottom lip, asking for her permission. He wanted her, some primal urge inside of him telling him to claim her as his own, but he would wait for her to reciprocate. 

As much as he wanted her to want him, wanted her to need him as he did her, it would mean nothing if she refused him. After all, a victory tainted by selfishness would taste just as bitter as defeat, would turn even the sweetest of blood to ashes in his mouth. 

For a moment, she didn’t react, startled and struggling to comprehend the flurry of motion and the fact that Anti was now kissing her. But then, slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Her lips parted, giving Anti the opportunity he was hoping for, and he capitalized on it, encouraged by her acceptance of him. 

His tongue slid into her mouth and—despite her initial hesitation—she seemed eager, meeting Anti halfway. Her inexperience showed as Anti's tongue explored her mouth; she didn't know what to do—didn't know whether she was supposed to be passive or active—but what she lacked in experience, she made up for in passion. 

She was eager to please him—eager to learn—and after a moment, her hesitance faded altogether. She surrendered control to Anti, letting him dominate her mouth as he tightened his grip around her neck. 

She was every bit as intoxicating as Anti had imagined her to be, her submissive nature only sweetening the glorious moment. He didn't want to let her go— couldn't let her go—but he had to. 

The burning sensation in his lungs reminded him that she needed to breathe, that she was a human that couldn't survive indefinitely. And so, reluctantly, he pulled away. 

His grip on her neck relaxed, though he didn't remove his hand, marveling at how beautifully fragile she was as she gasped for air. They had barely moved, and once she caught her breath again, she smiled at Anti. He grinned, squeezing her neck lightly as he moved in to kiss her again, his other hand lifting up her shirt—

"I hope you're not planning to fuck on my countertop." Dark broke in. He sounded annoyed. Maybe he was. " Some of us cook there." 

Now it was Anti's turn to be annoyed. He let go of Y/n, turning to face the other demon. "Don't be a petty bitch." He snarled, but the damage had already been done. Dark had ruined the moment, Y/n flushing red and scrambling to get down from the countertop. 

"S-sorry." She murmured, clearly embarrassed. "I, um, I'm going to go-" She stood awkwardly between the two of them for a moment, looking at the floor and hoping that Dark would let her pass. 

He didn't, instead moving closer to her. "There is no reason for you to apologize." He murmured, tilting her head up so that she met his eyes. His voice was quiet, reassuring, his eyes warm.

"If you are going to apologize, maybe try a different way." Anti suggested, coming up behind her. His hands found their way under her shirt again, resting just below her ribcage. 

Dark gave him a look, which he ignored. "I didn't mean-" She cut herself off before trying again. "I wasn't trying to-" 

This time, Dark cut her off. "I know." He cupped her face, making sure she was still looking at him. "May I?" 

She nodded, and he kissed her, his hands finding their way to her shoulders and then down her arms. Anti, feeling ignored, removed his hands from Y/n's torso, instead placing them over Dark's. 

Dark and Y/n broke away from each other, and Dark immediately glanced at Anti. There was a question in his eyes, but Anti ignored it, opting instead to focus on Y/n. 

If she minded being in the middle of the two demons, a third—but equally important—dancer in the strange soiree that they were part of, she said nothing. In fact, she seemed content. 

"Relax." Anti said to Dark, entwining his fingers with the other man's. "An hour won't kill you." 

Dark didn't respond to him, but he didn't pull away from them either. Y/n looked up at him. "Should I go?" She asked, obviously not wanting to intrude. 

"No." Dark replied. "Please, stay. You are home." 

Chapter Text

It had been about a week and a half since I’d moved in with Dark and Anti, and it was going about as well as could be expected, maybe even a little better. I spent time cooking, baking, and reading books that I had gotten at a local bookstore. 

Dark, as it turned out, was a fantastic cook. He would help me in the kitchen if he wasn’t busy, and, even though he would never admit it, I think he liked cooking. Anti, on the other hand, was not a good cook. He had tried to help me once, but he ended up setting a dish towel on fire. 

Dark relegated him to the living room after that. 

Even though I hadn’t noticed it at first, our dynamic had changed. The atmosphere was more relaxed, and there were fewer fights between us. At first, I thought it was simply because we had learned to live together. But now the air crackled with a different kind of tension. 

The affections that I thought had been fleeting seemed to be anything but. I had pushed the memories of Dark’s and Anti’s kisses far from my mind, nearly successful in convincing myself that it had simply been a strange kind of acceptance that I didn’t understand. After all, they were ancient, and the traditions that they must have learned were so different from my own that it almost made sense. 

But it seemed that none of us couldn’t dismiss it. The encounter laid, unspoken, between the three of us, but it was far from forgotten. I felt Anti’s eyes follow me through the kitchen when he was in the living room, pretending to be busy on his phone. I shivered when Dark’s skin brushed against mine, lingering a little too long to be accidental. And I pretended that I didn’t stare at them, longing to become a part of their intricate dynamic, the subtle dance that they performed where both of them pretended that they didn’t notice the other, but still shared a bed at night. 

There was something building in the air, but none of us addressed it, instead opting to stick to our ‘safe’ habits of pretending that nothing had happened and nothing would. 

I had worked a few days, a sporadic reprieve from the growing tension, but only when the cafe was crowded and they needed every employee that was free to work. Dark and Anti were still on guard, certain that an unseen threat was lurking around every corner and it was safer for me to just stay home. But, as the days went on and nothing happened, even they were relaxing. 

Since it was almost Thanksgiving, more and more employees had left town to visit family, just as the holiday rush had hit. More and more college students were spending their late nights at the coffee shop, rushing to finish essays and cram for the tests their professors had given them before break. Not only that, but more new faces were cropping up, families of regulars that had come in from out of town and wanted a hot drink, or even people just passing through on their holiday travels. 

Luckily, I didn’t have to work over Thanksgiving. Months ago, I had taken the week off, knowing fully well that I would be expected to go home for Thanksgiving. 

Home. The thought made me sigh as I glanced, again, at the text I had just received from my mother at 8:57. I read it for the fifth time before letting my phone fall onto the comforter beside me and staring up at the ceiling. 

I examined the white stucco, trying to commit the randomness of the pattern to memory, the raised bumps and the dips that had been painted on who knows how long ago. I sighed again, sitting up. Ignoring her text wouldn’t do me any good, as she would only continue to harass me if I didn’t answer her soon. 

Not bothering to change into regular clothes, I grabbed my phone and padded out into the living room in search of Dark and Anti. 

Anti was sitting on the couch, scrolling through something on his phone, most likely the newest game that he was obsessed with. He glanced up when I entered, only to look back down at his game a moment later. “Morning, doll.” He said. 

“Good morning, Anti.” I said, sitting next to him on the couch. “What are you playing?”

He didn’t look up, but he casually slung an arm around me, pulling me closer to him and allowing me to see the brightly coloured icons on his screen. “New game.” He said as he swiped at a few of them, prompting a computerized voice to praise him. 

“Candy crush?” I guessed after watching him for a few seconds. 

He just shrugged. “Something like that. I don’t fucking remember the name. They’re all the same anyway.” 

“Do you know where Dark is?” I asked. Anti shrugged once again. 

“He’s not my responsibility. Have you checked the kitchen?” I shook my head no. I didn’t want to get up and check, even though I needed to. Anti was warm, a sharp contrast to the chill of the house this morning, and there was something almost endearing about being curled up next to him and watching him play a game. 

In the end, I didn’t have to get up. Dark, hearing our conversation, appeared at the edge of the living room, drying his hands on a towel. “Good morning.” He greeted me. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Morning Dark.” I replied. “I slept alright.” Dark took in the sight of Anti’s arm around me, a flicker of something that might have been jealousy in his eyes. 

Disentangling myself from Anti, I sat up. As I had predicted, without Anti’s body heat, the room was suddenly much colder. “Dark, Anti, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.

Dark’s face suddenly grew serious and unreadable, and I felt Anti stiffen next to me. “What is it that you want to talk about?” Dark asked, his tone guarded. 

“Would you sit down first?” I asked meekly, biting my lip. Dark was still standing, looming over me, and it was making me nervous. Without a word, Dark crossed the room, sitting beside me on the couch. 

It made me almost more nervous to be sitting between Dark and Anti, a caged animal with nowhere to go. “What is it?” Anti asked. His voice was also stilted, his usual teasing tone gone, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. Were they nervous too?

“Um. . .” I forced my mind back to the issue at hand. “It’s about Thanksgiving.” Both of them immediately relaxed, the tension that had been building vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. 

“What about Thanksgiving?” Dark asked. “Are you scheduled to work?” 

I shook my head. “No.” I unlocked my phone, my frayed nerves making my hands shake as I pulled up the text message. “My mom wants me to come home for Thanksgiving.” 

Dark laid his hand on my arm, trying to calm me down as I reread the text message. “Is there a problem?” He asked. 

I took a deep breath before reading the text message out loud. “I hope you remembered to take Thanksgiving off this year, because I’m not explaining to everyone why you couldn’t be bothered to show up. You’ll need to get a hotel room, I’m using your old room for storage. Angelina and Derek are coming, and Claire is bringing Grace. If you even have a partner, make sure to invite them.” 

My mother’s contempt was clear, and by the time I trailed off, dropping my phone on my lap, both Dark and Anti were scowling. “Don’t even show up.” Anti spat. “It’s not like she fucking deserves it. Tell her to fuck off.” 

I shook my head. “I have to go, or she’ll come down and wait for me to show up at work. She’ll get me fired.” I buried my head in my hands.

Anti muttered a string of curses under his breath, pulling me back over to him and wrapping his arms around me again. His warmth made me feel a little better, and I buried my face in his chest, fighting the urge to cry.

“If you are determined to go,” Dark said after a minute. “Then one of us will go with you.” He was matter of fact, as if the solution was obvious. “Your mother wants you to invite your significant other anyway.” 

“I don’t want to distract you. I know you’re busy.” I replied. “I’d be taking you away from your work.” 

“Doll, it’s not a problem.” Anti was trying to make his voice soft, his tone comforting. He sounded like he wanted to continue, but he didn’t, settling for continuing to hold me.

“Really, it’s fine.” I insisted, but my voice shook, and I knew that I wasn’t being very convincing. “I don’t want to make either of you come with me and have to pretend to be my boyfriend.” 

There was a moment of silence as the two of them processed what I was saying, and I was hopeful that I had convinced them. But at the exact same time, both of them said the same thing. 

“I’ll go.” 

“I’ll go.”

Chapter Text

“Do you have everything?” Dark asked Y/n, ignoring Anti scowling at him from the doorway. 

“I think?” She replied, biting her lip. She was still nervous to go back to her parents, and, although Dark knew part of it, Celine had filled in the missing gaps. 

“Be careful, Dark.” She had warned him. “Her family is volatile, and she will most likely be unresponsive to you while around them. But, no matter how angry you may be with them, they’re still mortals, and still her family. Tread lightly.” 

Dark understood Celine’s warnings, although he wished he didn’t. He had heard the message that Y/n’s mother had sent, so he understood why Y/n would be less vivacious than usual while she was around her family. 

It had been a long time since Dark had interacted with humans, and he wasn’t looking forward to doing it again. But he would do it for her. 

It was yet another rash decision on his part, another choice that he hadn’t had the time to consider, but he didn’t regret it. It was a dangerous line that he had always walked—threading the gap between caution and foolishness—and he was never sure which side he was drifting towards. He had always assumed that his logic was sound—that evaluating every possible outcome before he acted must be better than suffering through mistake after mistake purely due to rashness. He had watched Anti fail again and again, over and over, the same mistakes, simply because the other demon lacked forethought. 

He had said that he would never make the same mistakes, never rush into something without a plan. Yet here he was. If he had taken a step back for a moment —if he hadn’t let his emotions control him— then perhaps he would have realized that the logical option was to let Anti accompany Y/n to her parents for Thanksgiving and stay behind himself. 

But he couldn’t accept even that. If Celine was warning him to tread lightly around her family, how could Anti possibly be able to handle himself around them? Anti lacked the same self control that Dark possessed and his hatred for humans far surpassed Dark’s. 

No. It was better that Dark accompany Y/n in order to ensure that nothing would happen. 

“Are you going?” Anti asked, snapping Dark out of his thoughts. “Thanksgiving’s not getting any later.” 

“Are you sure that you can handle things here while we’re gone?” Dark asked, and Anti rolled his eyes.

“Have a little faith, Dark.” 

“When you show a little maturity.” Dark responded, effectively ending the conversation. He turned to Y/n. “Are you ready?” She gave a curt nod, slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

“Yeah.” She responded. She was trying her best to sound nonchalant about it, but she was gripping the shoulder strap of her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white. She obviously wasn’t looking forward to going home. 

“You could still tell her to fuck off.” Anti had noticed too. 

“No, I have to do this.” She insisted. “If I don’t, she’ll show up at my work and yell at me. Then I’ll get fired for bringing my personal business to work.” 

“Then we should leave now. We’ll be back in a few days, Anti. Try not to burn the house down.” Once again, Anti rolled his eyes, but he said nothing, stepping out of the doorway to let Dark and Y/n pass. 

Neither of them said anything until they were both in the car and they were nearly thirty minutes out of the city, Y/n’s navigation system happily chirping out instructions every few miles. 

She was the one to break the silence, looking over at him. “I’m sorry that you’re getting dragged into this.” Dark glanced over at her before looking back at the road. 

“I volunteered.” He reminded her. 

“I know, but. . .” She paused, looking back out the window. “I just didn’t want to involve you.” Dark waited for a few moments, assuming that she was going to elaborate, but she didn’t. 

He glanced over at her again, wondering if he should prompt her. “Y/n?”

She snapped out of whatever she had been thinking about, returning her attention to Dark. “Sorry.” She murmured. “I was just thinking about. . .” She trailed off, gazing through him, before taking a deep breath. “My family isn’t exactly supportive.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I’m sure you could tell that about my mom already. I guess I just don’t measure up to their standards. I’m always hearing what Angelina and Claire are doing—always being compared to them. My parents just don’t understand that I’m not my sisters, and I never will be. I don’t want the ‘perfect life’ that they have. I don’t want to get married and have kids, to live a boring and mundane life.”

“What do you want?” Dark asked, his tone carefully neutral. If he was a human, his heart would have been pounding, trying to beat its way out of his chest, desperate to hear the answer. Even now, despite what he was and the immeasurable gap between the two of them, he made sure that none of his emotions showed on his face. They had shared a few moments of intimacy, but that meant nothing. This whole arrangement was temporary, after all, no matter how he might feel about it. 

“I don’t know!” Her tone was desperate, and Dark immediately knew that he had pushed her too far. “Angelina asks me the exact same thing every time I talk to her, but I don’t know! Mom says I won’t want to be a barista forever, and I know she’s right, but I don’t want the life that she wants from me. I don’t want the lives that they have! I’m not them !” The last exclamation hung in the air heavily, Y/n’s ragged breathing the only sound that permeated the silence. 

Dark opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What could he say to fix it? His question had clearly bothered her, striking a nerve that he hadn’t known was there, but that was no excuse. Ignorance was no excuse. In the end, he said nothing. There was nothing he could say. 

He listened to her breathing slow again as she calmed down, watched out of the corner of his eye as she turned back to the window. Neither of them said anything, driving in absolute silence as Dark kept his eyes on the road in front of them. 

“Turn left in two miles.” The navigational system chirped. It was the only noise the rest of the way there. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dark turned into the driveway of Y/n’s parents house, shutting off the navigational system before it had finished announcing that they had arrived. Turning the car off, he listened to the engine die, taking a deep breath before turning to Y/n. She was still staring blankly out the window, this time looking at the house that she had grown up in. In a quiet whisper that even Dark had to strain to hear, she said “Everytime, I swear that I’ll never come back here. And every time, they pull me back in.” 

Something in him broke at that, but he pulled himself back together. He could address that later. Now was not the time. “Y/n?” He asked cautiously. “Are you ready to go in?” 

His words snapped her out of whatever trance she had been in, and she turned to him. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Sure. It’s just an hour or so and then we can check into our hotel rooms, right?” She let out a shaky laugh. With trembling hands, she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. 

As Dark stepped out into the chilly air, walking up to the front door of the house, he thought about telling her that he had only booked one hotel room. With so many people in town for Thanksgiving, there had only been a few available.

He decided against it. She didn’t need any more undue stress at the moment, and it wasn’t that big of a deal. The listing had said that there were two beds, and he could just tell her when they were on their way to the hotel. 

Dark pushed aside all of his other thoughts, clearing his mind. He needed to concentrate. He didn’t know exactly what Y/n’s family was like, but he needed to concentrate. As Celine had said, they were only human and, especially if they were as bad as he thought they would be, he would need all of his self control. That was why he had come instead of Anti, wasn’t it? Y/n needed them, and they needed to pretend to be human.  Even if they had no other reason, then they would do it for her. He knocked on the door. 

It swung open as if the woman on the other side had known they were there and had been waiting for them. Maybe she had. As quiet as Dark’s car was, there wasn’t any other noise on the street. “Y/n!” She said, opening the door for the two of them. She smiled, and her voice was kind, but something about it seemed forced.

As Dark stepped inside, his eyes instinctively swept across the room, observing his surroundings and scanning them for any possible escapes, should they need one. He noticed a fully decorated Christmas tree in the corner and fought the urge to scoff. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet, and there were already presents under it. The cream coloured walls were decorated with garland, and if Dark hadn’t known better, he would have said that they were there for another holiday entirely. 

“Your father and I haven’t seen you in forever!” Y/n’s mother said, causing Dark’s focus to snap back to her. “He’s in the kitchen right now. Oh, he’ll be so excited to see you!” Her face lit up with excitement, but Y/n’s darkened. 

“I’ve been busy, mom.” She murmured, but her mother was already ushering both of them into the kitchen. 

“Too busy to see your family?” She questioned, and, without waiting for an answer, called “Richard, Y/n’s home!” A man, probably five years her senior, looked up from the stove as they entered the kitchen. He gave a tired smile. 

“I’m glad you’re home for Thanksgiving. Your mother was worried that you wouldn’t show up this year.” His tone was kindly, but there was, again, a hint of something else hidden in his voice. 

“I’ve been busy, Dad.” Y/n repeated. This time, her voice was quieter. 

“We missed you, Y/n.” Her mother said, sounding slightly put out. “You never talk to us, you never let us know what’s going on in your life. Are you still working that dead end barista job? You know you can’t do that forever. You really should just give it-”

“Emily, love.” Richard interrupted her. “She just got back. I’m sure that she has been busy. She’s an adult now.” If Emily was upset, then she was pacified at Richard’s next words. “Y/n, please introduce us to this nice young man. Have you finally gotten a boyfriend?”

“Sorry. . .” Y/n murmured, her voice soft. “Mom, Dad, this is. . .” she hesitated for a minute, her voice catching in her throat. Her eyes darted around the room, panicked. Dark, instinctively, knew what she was thinking. 

She couldn’t use his real name, it was too risky. His name wasn’t normal, wasn’t human. He had been born out of an accident, a cruel, twisted joke by a man that he used to know, and the name he had taken on reflected that. His name wouldn’t, couldn’t work here. 

“Y/n?” Her father was starting to question her silence. They couldn’t get away with this for much longer. It would sound questionable if she didn’t know his name, but equally questionable if she told them the one that he used now. 

“Use my name.” Time seemed to slow as Damien spoke to him. 

“She doesn’t know me by that name. No one does.” A brief image flashed through his mind of a man with a pink mustache, a man that he had once known. He pushed it away. 

“She could.” Celine said. “Concentrate. If you let her, she could hear you. Empty your mind. Think of the name.” 

Dark took a deep breath. 

Damien. Damien. Say my name is Damien. 

In a brilliant flash, a single moment, he felt her. He knew she knew, and—for that brief moment—the two of them were one. 

And he felt her pull away, shrink away from the light and the ability to know him as know one else had ever—as no one else could ever—know him. As he recentered himself, wondering if this was how she felt every time, he dimly heard her speak. 

“Sorry.” She apologized. “I thought I saw a spider and I started to have a panic attack.” He knew, instinctively, that this was how she had explained her panic attacks to her parents. She had told them she had arachnophobia instead of explaining to them that she was afraid to be in their house, afraid that her father would hit her again, that her mother would, once again, neglect her. “This is my boyfriend, Damien.” 

His senses began to return to him as he heard her speak, the overstimulation of knowing her, of being her fading away. This was what had caused her to faint before, his immortal knowledge which was never meant to be contained in a human body. His consciousness in her body was too much for it to handle, and so it shut down. He was only able to withstand it because of his immortality and the years of experience he had gained from resisting Actor.

“-should have told us.” Dark blinked, realizing that he had missed part of the conversation. Emily was speaking again, but her tone was much harsher, having dropped the friendly facade. “We can’t support you if you’re never home, if you live hours away and don’t talk to us. Surely you understand that!” 

Y/n’s shoulders were hunched, her breathing uneven as she endured her mother’s tirade. This was not as bad as it could get, but it was bad enough. He should have never let her come back here. 

“Emily?” Dark questioned, struggling to keep his voice human. It was breaking through, the single word doubling and the air around him beginning to crackle. He wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer. “Could you excuse us? We’re both tired from the car ride, and we need to check into a hotel tonight.” He smoothed his tone, quieting the distortions of the air around him. “We weren’t able to make reservations, and we need to find a hotel that will let us book a room for tonight and tomorrow.” The lies came easily, and he found himself relaxing as he put his arm around Y/n, protecting her from the monsters that she called a family.

Emily’s expression softened, her voice becoming friendly once more. “Of course, Damien. I’m sorry for holding you two up. If my daughter was more responsible, I’m sure that this could have been taken care of already.” 

Dark’s auras flared up again for a minute before he soothed them once more. “No, it was my fault. I simply forgot to book a room before we came.” He wouldn’t let them blame her for something that was his fault, regardless of whether or not it was a lie. 

Emily started to say something else, but Richard cut her off again. “Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow at twelve.” Dark nodded, guiding Y/n towards the door of the house. “Oh, and Damien?” Richard asked. Dark didn’t turn towards him, focused on leaving. “Make sure that she’s not late.” 

Dark’s jaw clenched. Mortals. He hated them all.

Chapter Text

Dark had been silent the entire way to the hotel. He hated me too. He had every right to, of course. He had said that it was fine, but I dragged him into this mess. I had dragged him into my life and then I had embarrassed him in front of my parents. Of course he hated me. 

He had gone, alone, to check us into the hotel. He didn’t trust me to go in with him, and I couldn’t blame him. I would have embarrassed him there too. I should just be grateful that he hadn’t left already. The only reason he was still here was because he couldn’t let anything happen to me. He wasn’t here because he wanted to do this. Of course he didn’t. I had been nothing but a constant burden to him; even now I was still pulling him down with me. I was nothing more than a responsibility in his eyes. 

I was broken out of my thoughts by Dark opening the car door. “I have the keys.” He held up a small, paper envelope. One small, paper envelope. 

“Did we only get one room?” I forced myself to ask. My voice came out in a shaky, tiny whisper. He nodded, turning the car back on. 

“There were not very many rooms available for the holidays, so I only booked one. I intended to tell you earlier, but after meeting your family, I thought it was best to leave you alone. There should be two beds, if you are worried about that.” 

I shook my head. “It’s okay.” I managed. “I just. . . I didn’t think you would want to be near me.” 

He tilted his head to the side, indicating confusion, while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Why would I not want to be near you?”

“I dragged you into this mess. You had to put up with me, with my parents, and you’ll have to put up with my whole family tomorrow. You don’t even want to be here, so why. . .” I trailed off as he parked the car. 

“Y/n.” His tone was sharp, and I winced, retreating into myself. He was angry with me, he hated me, he didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore and he was only here out of obligation- 

“Y/n.” Dark repeated, his voice a bit gentler. “This is not a conversation that I would like to have in the car. Could we go to the hotel room first?” I found myself nodding mechanically. He was going to yell at me, and he just didn’t want to be in public to do so. 

Getting out of the car, I followed him to the hotel room. My mind raced. What could I do to make this better? How could I appease him? I could tell him that he didn’t have to stay, that he didn’t have to be here and I could go to my parents’ by myself tomorrow. Yes, they would be upset, but they were only human. They weren’t as threatening as Dark, couldn’t do the things that he could do. If I was going to be afraid of one or the other, I would be afraid of Dark. 

The door to the hotel room clicked shut behind me. I barely remembered opening it or stepping inside. This was it. He was going to yell at me now, tell me what a failure I was. My breath hitched as the beginnings of a panic attack once again washed over me. My eyes darted around the room, looking for an exit, even though I knew that the only exit was behind me. 

The blood roared in my ears. I could see Dark’s lips moving, could tell he was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him. Not that it mattered anyways. I knew what he was saying. I knew that he was blaming me, that he—justifiably—was angry that I had embarrassed him in front of my parents. I knew I was a disappointment. 

He took a step towards me, his hand coming up from his side, and I flinched. Shutting my eyes, I braced myself for the slap that I knew was coming. How could I have ever thought that anything would be different? It always turned out like this, no matter what I did. I just couldn’t be the person that anyone needed me to be, couldn’t do the simplest of tasks properly. 

A sob tore its way from my throat. “Please. . .” I begged him. “Please. . . I promise that I’ll be better, I promise that I won’t fuck it up next time. Please, I’m sorry. . .” I flinched again as I felt his hand on my face. 

“Y/n. . .” His tone was sympathetic. “Y/n. . .  Please look at me.” I opened my eyes, finding his face a few inches away from mine. I panicked, flinching back from him. He was close, far too close. My immediate reaction was to try to get away from the situation. He was going to hurt me and I had to run. I had to get away. The door behind me was the only thing that stopped me. “You are safe. I promise. I’m not going to hurt you.” Dark’s voice was quiet, gentle, as if talking to a wounded animal. 

“Please. . .” A few more tears rolled down my face. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Do your parents hurt you?” He asked. I nodded. His auras crackled to life around him, dangerous, but he kept his tone quiet and even. “Do they hit you?”

I nodded again. “Only. . .” I took a deep breath. “Only when I deserve it.” 

He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He was angry with me again, and struggling not to show it. “What else did they do to you, Y/n?” His tone was laced with barely concealed malice this time, and I trembled.

“Sometimes. . . sometimes, when I was growing up, my mom wouldn’t feed me. If I did something wrong, she would ignore me. It was like I didn’t exist. My dad. . . he. . . he would hit me sometimes.” Seeing his expression darken, I cowered. “O-only when I deserved it.” I took another deep breath and let it out. I needed to calm down. “I wanted to be a doctor. I went to college, took classes. . . I got my degree and then applied to med school.” I hesitated, recalling the memory. “I got in. Mom was furious. She said that I shouldn’t be trying to do a man’s job. They wouldn’t pay for it, and the scholarship the school gave me just wasn’t enough.”

Dark took a step back from me, sitting down heavily on the edge of the only bed in the room. He was repulsed by me. My parents were right. They were always right. The moment I had told someone how they had treated me, how I had tried to do a man’s job, he was repulsed by me. I was damaged, and he couldn’t bear to be near me. They had been right all along. 

Tears streamed down my face. I should just leave. I shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be here. I was so stupid, to think that I could have ever been anything more to him than an obligation.

My trembling hands found the door handle, opening it as quietly as I could. If I could just leave, then maybe I could fix this. Maybe it would all be okay. He wouldn’t ever have to see me again. I wouldn’t be an obligation, a burden to him or Anti. Nevermind the fact that I loved them, that seeing Dark so angry and knowing that he was angry with me hurt infinitely more than my parents’ disapproval ever could. He didn’t want me. He could never want me. 

“Y/n, don’t leave.” Dark said. It was the same tone that my dad used sometimes. The conversation wasn’t over until he said it was. I shut the door. 

“Why? You clearly don’t want me here. I’m just someone who you have to take care of, a worthless fucking human who you don’t want anything to do with.” I knew that it wouldn’t get me anywhere, that talking to him like this would only get me into more trouble, but I couldn’t seem to stop digging myself into this hole. “It’s not like you even care about me! You just came here out of some kind of obligation and now that you finally know who I am, you’re just going to abandon me! Just like everyone else who I’ve ever told! My parents were-”

“Shut up.” Dark’s voice was a low growl that I had never heard him use before. His auras were out of control, billowing out and consuming the entirety of the room as he stood up from the bed. He stalked towards me, his body doubling, then tripling in the colours that radiated from him. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that. You do not know anything. ” His voice layered, high pitched noise building up until it was painful to hear. 

I curled in on myself, feeling my body slide to the floor. It was going to be okay. No matter what, it was going to be okay. I would be okay. Everything would be okay. It was my own fault, I pushed him too far and now anything he would do to me was my own fault. “I’m sorry. . .” I whimpered. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. . .” He was going to kill me. He was going to kill me and it would be all my own fault. Why did I ever think that I could challenge a demon? Why did I ever think that he wouldn’t be angry with me? That he wouldn’t hurt me? He was going to kill me and there was nothing I could do about it. 

I dimly registered him picking me up, carrying me over and setting me down on the bed. He was absolutely going to kill me. He was saying something, but I still couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t understand him and I was too afraid to ask, too afraid of him hurting me. I didn’t even care anymore. He was going to kill me, and I was going to let him. I deserved it. I deserved it. 

He repeated the same thing again, this time slower. Was it a question? I nodded, my brain on autopilot. He shook his head, continuing to repeat whatever he had said. “. . .’m. . . . . .rry.”

I couldn’t understand him, but I forced myself to try. I was numb, my senses heavy and dull. “W. . . what?” My voice came to me slowly as I stumbled through the words. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry.” The demon said. Once more aware of my surroundings, I noticed that his auras had calmed down considerably. His eyes were still dark, but they had some semblance of emotion in them. Sorrow? 

“It’s my fault.” I murmured. “I didn’t want to. . . I didn’t mean to. . .” Every sentence I started felt wrong. “Can I hug you?” I asked awkwardly. He frowned slightly, and I hastily backtracked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He cut me off. “Stop apologizing.” I nodded, wrapping my arms around him. As I buried my face in his shirt, I felt the tears come again. “It will be alright, Y/n.” 

“How can you be so sure?” I asked, my voice muffled by his suit. “How can you know?”

He sighed. “Trust me.” I nodded, and then realized that probably wasn’t an acceptable response. 

“I trust you.” I said. Then, after a moment of hesitation, “I love you.” 

He ran his fingers through my hair, stroking it. “Everything will be okay.”

Chapter Text

It had probably been a few hours. The moon was high in the night sky, its light peeking through the curtains of the second story hotel room and pooling on the floor. Y/n laid beside him, sound asleep.

In the end, there had only been one bed. Dark had thought that the listing had said two beds, and it had, but in his hurry to book the room, he had failed to notice that there was one double bed and one foldable, uncomfortable, cot. After Y/n’s breakdown, and declaration of love, she had been exhausted. Dark was going to let her have the bed, but—tired as she was—she would not let Dark have the cot. She volunteered to sleep there, but he would have none of it. So they both ended up sleeping, together, in the single, queen sized bed in the room. 

Dark sighed. Of course, he didn’t really need to sleep. There were no downsides to his sudden bout of insomnia. He would be just fine, whether he fell asleep or not. That was besides the point.

Dark enjoyed sleeping, regardless of the fact that he didn’t need to. As a matter of fact, in his younger years, he had viewed sleep as a waste of time, something to prevent him from working around the clock to track down and stop Actor. But that was then. 

Now, he acknowledged the benefits that sleep had on his mind. It was a valuable opportunity to relax from the stress of the day, and if he fucked Anti into the mattress before falling asleep next to the other demon, that was just an added bonus. Not tonight though. Tonight, the other demon was hours away, and he was here, wide awake. There was too much on his mind to sleep.

Of course he was still angry with Emily and Richard. They had hurt Y/n in a way that was unforgivable. He wanted to kill them, wipe them off the face of the earth and bury their bodies in a place that no one would ever find them. 

“Careful, Dark.” Celine whispered to him, and Dark let out a sigh. Of course, he wouldn’t. They were just humans. Infuriating humans who had hurt someone he cared deeply about, but humans all the same. He could not afford to lose his self control, to waste all the years he had spent building it up, for them. Not only that, but their deaths would arouse suspicion. If he killed them, he could not blame their deaths on a natural disaster—as he had done before—or simply pretend that they had never existed. They had two other children, one of which he presumed was married, and he had no idea how it would affect Y/n. 

He could easily imagine her being grateful at the fact that her parents were gone, that she would never see her abusers again, but he could just as easily imagine her being devastated. Despite how they had hurt her, they were still her family, after all. And he would not attend their funeral with her. She might thank him, or she might hate him forever. The risk was far too great. 

Then there was Y/n herself. She had said she loved him. He could almost imagine that he felt his dead heart beating as he thought of her, beating for her. But then the tightness in his chest grew as he thought of losing her. She was a mere human, after all, even if he didn’t want to admit it. It was dangerous for him to love her, dangerous for him to get close to her. If a brief moment of contact with him, an unintended look into his world was enough for Actor to try to hunt her down, then how could he possibly risk pulling her in closer? She had never asked to be a part of the world she was now so deeply entrenched in. She had never asked to be hunted by a man who she knew nothing of. She was a victim of circumstance.

It didn’t matter how much he thought he might love her. He couldn’t let her get hurt. “Is that not a form of love?” Damien asked. Dark shoved him away. He couldn’t afford to love her. His love-hate relationship with Anti had only worked because the other demon was already so deep under the waves that he could never resurface. He was like Dark, immortal and willing to kill in order to keep himself alive. Y/n was neither of those things. She was no murderer, and Dark would never want her to be one. 

He sighed again, looking over at her. She was so peaceful when she was sleeping, her worried look from earlier gone. The very sight brought comfort to him, knowing that he was keeping her safe. The very idea that he had made her afraid, even though he knew it was true, was repulsive to him. He knew that he had the capacity to be a monster, but he had never wanted to be that in front of her, much less to her. She had seen him in his true form—broken down by pain and rage—and even though she had cowered, she had still cared for him. She had seen into his soul, felt his pain and seen his hatred, and she still cared for him. And when she had been afraid he would kill her, her fear of death—of him —permeating through his auras, she had still broken down in his arms afterwards. She had still loved him.

And he loved her. As much as he knew that the decision to push her away was out of his hands, he wished that he could. Him loving her would only cause her to be hurt. It could never work, him an immortal demon and her a human. But he would make it work. He loved her too much to let her go without even trying.

With that resolution in mind, Dark felt at peace. He would, at some point, have to figure out how to love her, but he didn’t need to worry about that now. Emily and Richard still bothered him, but he would make sure to shield her from them. He wouldn’t let them hurt her anymore. 

He closed his eyes, watching the universe moving slowly around him. Everything would be alright. 

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She flinched as she heard the noise of her crystal ball shattering. He was in a bad mood, and she was about to bear the brunt of it. 

“Celine!” she heard her husband shout. He was close. There wasn’t enough time to hide. The door slammed open, its hinges groaning loudly in protest. She could fix it later. For now, she would have to deal with her husband. 

“What is it, Actor?” She asked, fighting to keep her tone neutral. She was irritated, yes, but above all, she was frightened. William had pleaded with her to get out of there, to leave him, months ago, but she couldn’t. He needed her. Whether she wanted to be here or not was no longer her choice. If she was being honest, it hadn’t been for a long time. 

“Why was he here?” Actor asked her. His voice was quiet, dangerous. He meant William. 

“The Colonel?” Celine answered carefully. Actor didn’t like it when she referred to him by his first name. If she was younger, a little more naive, she might have called it jealousy. But as it was, she knew better. It was obsession.

“Yes, the colonel .” Actor spit out the words like they were poison. “Celine, I have made it abundantly clear that I don’t want to see him ever again. And that means that I don’t want you seeing him either.” 

Celine knew that she had to choose her words carefully. She couldn’t tell her husband anything that he didn’t already know. It was clear that he didn’t know how often she had been seeing William, or that he had been slowly moving her few possessions to a small apartment beyond Actor’s control. 

“What happened?” she asked, keeping her voice soft. Compliance was key with Actor. She had learned to defer to him for every single decision she made, every action she ever took. She had learned so well that it had taken William months to get her to make a single decision of her own. “You used to be such good friends.” 

“We’re not anymore.” His tone was harsh, and she knew that she should not question him further on the matter. “I don’t want to see you with him, ever again. If I see him on this property — my property — again, I will hire someone to keep him out. Forcefully, if necessary.” 

He walked over to Celine, his eyes softening as he took her hands in his. “You understand, don’t you?” He asked, and she had to force herself to nod. “I have to protect what’s mine.” He kissed her. “And you are mine.”

The scene faded out, changing and melding into a different one. Actor was much older now, though he barely seemed it. He sat on a bed in an unfamiliar room, next to Y/n, cradling her face in one of his hands. Dark could tell that she had been crying. “It will be alright.” Actor soothed her. “You don’t have to worry about them anymore.” 

Dark felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He reached out to Y/n, trying to reassure her, confused why she was in this room with Actor — why she was crying — but he was just an observer in his own dream. 

“Actor.” He heard someone say, their icy tone laced with equal parts anger and concern. As Actor started to respond, the dream spun out of focus once more, and he woke up.

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Dark woke up, a cold sweat covering his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the cheap, digital alarm clock that the hotel had provided the room with. Its red numbers stared at him, unblinking and unfeeling. Five AM. Well, he wouldn’t be sleeping anymore tonight. 

Sitting up carefully so as to not wake Y/n, who was still sleeping, he looked out the window. It was still dark outside. He had plenty of time, especially considering that they didn’t have to be at Emily and Richard’s house until noon. He stepped out of bed, unbothered by the cold wooden floor, and went into the bathroom. 

Closing the door, flipping on the light, and turning the shower to hot, he undressed and then stepped into the shower. The warm water helped to relax him as he washed the sweat from his body. It was just a dream, only a nightmare. He was familiar with those at this point. So why did it bother him so much? 

Perhaps it was because the thought of Actor touching Y/n bothered him greatly. The thought that he would ever have her within his grasp while Dark lived and breathed—however unnecessary those breaths were—was concerning. As much as he tried, he couldn’t shake the concern. Even when he stepped out of the shower and into the now steamy bathroom some time later, the nagging concern was still there. 

“Do not disregard the visions of either the past or the future.” Celine advised him. “It is both a gift and a curse.” Dark knew this, but he didn’t respond. He did not want to think of it today. 

Donning his clothes and wiping down the mirror, he was reminded of how much he resembled Actor. It made sense, of course. They had been born into this world by the same man, and given his exact likeness. Perhaps that was why Y/n had been inclined to trust Actor in his dream. He looked almost exactly like Dark. Attempting to shake the lingering threads of his dream off once more, Dark made a cup of coffee in the tiny coffee machine that the hotel had provided. 

He took it and went to stand by the window, watching the sun come up over the horizon. As he sipped the coffee, he glanced over at Y/n, still asleep in bed. The past was the past. He couldn’t change it. All he could do was protect the people he cared about now. 

He loved her. And he would never let Actor hurt someone he loved again.

Chapter Text

“It will be alright.” Dark said. His words were supposed to be comforting, but they did little to reassure me. He was standing at the window when I woke up, nursing a cup of coffee, lost in thought. He had been the picture of beauty. 

I took a quick shower and changed into an outfit from my luggage, which Dark had brought up after I had gone to sleep. We ate a light breakfast, provided by the hotel, and then got ready to leave. 

On the way to my parents house, unsurprisingly, I had another panic attack, and Dark had to pull into a small parking lot about a mile away. “I won’t let them hurt you.” He promised. “It will only be a few hours, and then you won’t have to see them again until next year.” Something in his tone told me that he would have preferred if I never had to see them again. I couldn’t have agreed with him more, but I couldn’t risk my mother getting me fired from the only job that was keeping me afloat. 

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay. I think I’m alright now.” I did  feel better, but my anxiety wasn’t completely gone. I didn’t think it would be until we left town entirely. 

Dark started the car again, and soon enough, we were back at my parents’ house. This time, Derek’s car was already in the driveway and Claire’s parked on the street in front of the house. Dark parked the car just behind Claire’s and we listened to the engine die. “I won’t let them hurt you.” Dark promised again, and I nodded before getting out of the car. 

Neither of us said anything as we walked up the sidewalk to the open front door. I opened the storm door and was immediately hit by the smell of turkey cooking. I relaxed. Mom and Dad must be in the kitchen. 

I hadn’t taken more than a step into the living room before I was tackled by Claire. “Y/n! I haven’t seen you in forever!” I laughed quietly, ruffling her hair. 

“I’ve been a little busy, Claire.” I responded, quickly adding on “But I missed you.” There was the quiet noise of someone clearing their throat, and I looked up to my older sister Angelina. “You too, Angelina. How have both of you been?” 

Dark stepped into the living room, and there was a moment of silence before I realized that he was wearing a suit and everyone else was wearing jeans and sweatshirts. He was very obviously out of place here. Angelina broke the tension. “Y/n’s partner, I presume?” She asked, stepping over the puzzle that was on the rug next to Grace. “It’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. 

“Angelina, this is Damien.” I said. “Damien, this is my sister, Angelina.” Dark forced a smile that almost seemed genuine. 

“A pleasure.” His voice was even, but I could sense a hint of distrust in his tone. He wasn’t sure how to feel about any of the people in this room. He wanted to know if he could trust them. 

I put my hand on his arm and he relaxed. Grace looked up at him from the floor, scrutinizing him before returning to the puzzle. I was never sure whether or not someone passed her silent tests, but since she didn’t immediately accuse him of something, I supposed it was fine. The tenseness in the room seemed to pass as Dark and I sat down and the small talk resumed. 

At 3:00 PM, Mom finally made an appearance. “Dinner’s almost ready.” she announced. “Derek, Y/n, could you set the table?” It sounded like a question, but everyone could tell that it wasn’t. Dark tensed as I stood up, but stayed where he was seated, talking to Claire. 

“Do you need help, love?” He asked. I shook my head.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I have Derek to help me.” I replied as I headed into the other room. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” Derek started as I began to set out the plates. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping at him. This was how every interaction with my family started. It didn’t make a difference that he was an in-law. He fit right in. “Are you doing alright? How’s your job?” 

“The same as it always is. I’m-” I answered before he cut me off. 

“Who is that?” He asked, staring out the window. I turned to see what he was talking about. Through the window, a familiar green-haired demon waved at me from the porch. 

“Hey, doll.” Anti called. “Mind letting me in?” To his credit, he had covered his giant, gaping neck wound by trading his normal black t-shirt for a black turtleneck, but he still barely looked human. 

 “Do you know him?” Derek asked. Feigning ignorance wasn’t an option. 

“Yeah.” I tried to think of a lie. “I invited him to come, but he said he was busy. His plans must have fallen through.”

Derek raised a single, skeptical eyebrow. “Should we set another place for him?” 

I sighed. “We might as well. He’s already here.” As I got out the dishes, Anti disappeared from the back porch. A moment later, I heard the doorbell. There was some low murmuring, broken by the sound of the door opening. 

It was quiet. Mom must have opened it. 

I peeked around the corner into the living room, where I could see everyone’s attention on Anti. After a long moment of conversation between the two of them, my mother finally let him in. Begrudgingly, her ‘good hostess’ behavior won out. 

I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding and ducked back into the dining room before Mom could see me. I gave the table a quick once over. It looked okay, maybe not up to my mother’s standards, but it was more than passable. 

“We’re finished setting the table!” I called to her. 

“Can you put an extra plate out for Sean?” She called back from the kitchen. I could hear the barely concealed frustration in her voice. 

Sean. Was that what Anti was calling himself? It made sense that he would have had to tell Mom something, and I doubt that she would have believed his name . “I already did. We heard the door open.” 

She appeared in the doorway connecting the kitchen and dining room, a slight scowl plastered on her face. She looked at the table and her scowl deepened. “I guess it will do.” She sniffed. “Y/n, please let everyone know dinner’s ready. Derek, could you help Richard and me carry the food to the table?”

“Of course.” Derek responded quickly, and Mom moved aside to let him enter the kitchen.

“You didn’t tell me that Sean was coming.” Mom hissed at me. I did my best to shrug.

“He didn’t tell me he was. The last I heard, he was still busy.” I stuck to the lie that I told Derek. It was believable enough. 

She started to say something else, but was interrupted by a quiet “excuse me” from Derek as he passed her to set a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. 

“We’ll talk about this later.” She hissed before returning to the kitchen. 

I took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. “Dinner’s ready.”

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Shockingly , Dark and Anti ended up sitting on either side of me. It was comforting, in a way, to catch Anti smirking at me while my mother said prayer, or Dark giving Anti withering glances when he thought that no one was watching. It was nice to know they cared. 

It was after everyone had food that the trouble started. “So, Sean,” my mother started. “You’re Y/n’s friend?” 

“Boyfriend.” He replied, leaning back and swinging his arm around my shoulders. 

“I thought Damien was Y/n’s boyfriend?” My mother replied. Shit. The sense of unease that had been growing since the moment we got here only grew larger. 

“I am.” Dark said. He didn’t elaborate any further.

“I’m sorry?” Mom asked, her voice rising slightly. I saw Angela wince. 

Anti started to say something, but I cut him off, shrugging his arm off of my shoulders. “They’re both my boyfriends, Mom.” I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. 

“Y/n, they can’t possibly both be your boyfriends. That’s not how this works.” Her voice was rising, and I flinched instinctively. “Are you lying to me? In my house? I raised you, I-”

“Emily.” My father’s voice cut her off. “We can talk about this later. Right now, there are guests.” She took a deep breath before nodding.

“I’m. . .” she struggled with the words as if they were poison. “Sorry.” she spat out. She turned her attention away from me and back to my supposed ‘boyfriends’. “What do you do for work, Damien?” 

Dark didn’t miss a beat. “Investments. The group I work for puts money into specific businesses, and then removes our support if they don’t turn a profit. We are shareholders of quite a few businesses at the moment. Profits have been good.” 

“That explains the suit.” Claire commented quietly. Angela shot her a look, and she stiffened, looking back down at her plate. I knew what that look meant. ‘Don’t say anything that might upset mom.’

“And you, Sean?” My father asked. 

Anti shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that. Whatever suits my tastes at the moment.” 

My father scowled. “Doesn’t sound very stable.” 

Anti shrugged again. “It’s worked for me so far.” 

Dad shook his head. “You won’t get very far with that attitude.” He sounded like he was going to say more, but Angela cut him off.

“How did you get here, Sean? I didn’t see a new car parked in the driveway.” 

“I ran.” Anti said, as if that were the simplest, most obvious answer in the world. 

“I’m sorry, you what?” Derek blurted out. 

“I ran.” Anti repeated. “It wasn’t that far, and I had the extra time.” It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. “I was finished with my jobs for today, and I figured that I’d come up and share dinner with you all, since Y/n so graciously invited me.” He smiled, baring his fangs slightly. “Anyway, what’s for dessert?” 

Chapter Text

Anti broke the silence that had been sitting between them since they left Y/n’s parents’ house. “The pumpkin pie wasn’t even that good.”

Y/n made some sort of half strangled sound as she bit back a laugh. “Anti. . .” She started. 

“What? It wasn’t!” He continued. “Look, I thought at least the pie would be good. Since you’re so good at baking, I thought that it must have come from your parents. But no, they’re shit at it.” 

“Anti, you are a menace.” Dark said. There was no malice behind his words, and Anti smirked. 

“You love me.” He teased. He knew that both Dark and Y/n were in a better mood now, regardless of what Dark might say. 

“Are you planning on running back tonight?” Dark changed the subject, refusing to rise to Anti’s bait. 

“Nope. Too much energy.” He replied, gazing out the window. “I was just going to crash in whatever hotel room that you guys rented for the night and then ride back with you tomorrow.” 

“There’s only one bed.” Dark said, and Anti glanced at him. 

“The listing said two.” 

“The listing technically did say two. But there’s only one bed and a foldout cot.” 

Anti made a face. “Then we’ll rent another fucking room.” 

“Why didn’t I think of that earlier?” Dark replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s a holiday, so many people are visiting their families. The only reason I was able to get this room was because I booked a week in advance. And we were lucky to get that.” 

Anti made a frustrated noise. “So one of us has to sleep on the fucking cot?” 

Dark didn’t dignify him with an answer, instead pulling the car into a hotel parking space. 

“I’ll take the cot.” Y/n spoke up. 

“No, you will not.” Dark said firmly. “I am not letting you sleep on the cot, especially not after a long day with your family.” 

She sighed. “Well, then, can’t we just share?” 

“Y/n, if we share, Dark will crush you.” Anti replied. “And not in a good way.” 

“No, he won’t!” She protested, her cheeks blushing a bright red. It was kind of cute. “We shared the bed last night, and it was fine!” Anti’s good mood dissipated. 

They shared a bed? Without him? Unacceptable.

“Then Dark can sleep on the cot.” He growled, opening the car door to get out. 

“We’re not finished discussing this, Anti.” Dark said, still as calm as ever. 

“No, but I am.” He stepped out and slammed the car door. He stood there for a minute like a petulant child, becoming increasingly aware that he didn’t have the key or the room number. There was nowhere he could go.

He could run home now, but that would put him in an even worse mood, especially knowing that Dark and Y/n would be sharing a bed tonight. Again. Without him. 

He took a deep breath. As much as he hated it, he wouldn’t get anywhere without talking to Dark and Y/n about this. He opened the car door again.

“Are you finished throwing a tantrum?” Dark asked, and Anti almost slammed the door on him again. But he didn’t, instead sliding back onto the car’s nylon seats. 

After Anti was back in the car, the door once more closed, Dark spoke again. “I suggest we share the bed. Since it is clearly so important to Anti and it should be big enough for all three of us to fit, I don’t see the issue.” Dark paused, scanning both Y/n’s and Anti’s faces before continuing. “Is that alright with everyone?”

Y/n nodded, and, after a long moment, Anti did too. “Good. I would like to leave early tomorrow, since Anti left matters at home unattended to.” 

Anti scowled. “I did the things I was supposed to do before coming here. It’s not my fault that you didn’t leave me with anything interesting to do.” 

“You mean you did all the things you were required to do.” Dark corrected. “There are many things that you are supposed to do that you don’t attend to even when I am there to remind you to do them. As for leaving you with something ‘interesting’ to do, I thought that the tasks I left you with would be more than enough to keep you busy.” 

“Guys, can we please just head up to the room?” Y/n interrupted their argument. “It’s been a long day, and I’d really like to take a shower.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Anti replied. His argument with Dark wasn’t anything new or revolutionary, and, hopefully, if they stopped arguing now, Dark would forget about it later. “Let’s get you a shower.”

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As it turned out, the room was on the third floor. Dark swiped the keycard through the scanner, letting the three of them into the room. Y/n went in first—presumably eager to take her aforementioned shower—but before Anti could follow, Dark blocked the door. “Anti.” Dark started, and Anti stared at him, irritated. “Don’t break anything. The hotel-”

Anti rolled his eyes, ducking under Dark’s arm to enter the room. “The hotel will bill us for damages. I’ve stayed in hotels before, Dark.” He sat down on the bed. “In fact, I’ve stayed in hotels with you before.”

Dark scowled, stepping in and closing the door with a heavy click. “The last time we stayed at a hotel together, you trashed the room.” 

“If I remember, you had something to do with that.” Anti smirked, standing up again and walking over to Dark. Pulling on the other man’s tie, he leaned in, whispering in Dark’s ear. “We could make another mess, if you wanted.”

“Anti.” Dark said. His tone was quiet, but firm. He glanced towards the bathroom, where Anti could hear the shower running. “Not here.” 

Anti growled, frustrated. “I ran all the way here, and you won’t even fuck me?” 

Dark frowned, shoving Anti away. “I didn’t ask you to come, Anti. In fact, I told you to stay home. So if you expect to get off, you’d better do it yourself. In a place where you won’t disturb Y/n.” 

Anti’s auras sprung to life, the air prickling around him. “If you’re so concerned about the way that she feels about us fucking, she could join us.” He spat, ignoring the way that the idea made his stolen blood rush to his dick. 

Dark glanced towards the bathroom door again before sighing. “No, Anti. Not today.” Anti pouted. Dark had never cared about a human this much. He should have been—would have been—fucking Anti right now if Y/n wasn’t here. It was annoying, how Dark valued a human over the chance to fuck Anti- Anti’s thought process stuttered and stopped on that thought. Dark cared about a human. Dark cared about Y/n .

At this realization, Anti immediately calmed down, the static in the air around him flickering out and dying. “You love her, don’t you?” It was phrased as a question, but it was more of a statement. 

“Anti, don’t.” Dark cautioned, but Anti continued. 

“Don’t you?” The hurt of being rejected by Dark was slowly being replaced by a kind of sadistic glee. “You love her.”

“We’re not talking about this.” Dark responded, crossing the room to stand by the door to the balcony. He stared out the glass door, trying to ignore Anti. 

“Why not? Is that why you shared a bed with her? Because you love her?” Anti asked, walking over to also peer out the glass. “Is that why you don’t want to fuck while she’s here? You’re afraid that would mean you don’t love her?”

“I don’t love her!” Dark snapped. He whirled around to face Anti, breathing heavily, blue and red auras crackling dangerously around him. “Is that what you want to hear, Anti? Is that what you want me to say to you to soothe your delicate ego?” 

Anti bristled, angry. “Fuck you, Dark.” He growled. 

Dark began to say something, but their argument was cut short by the sound of the shower turning off. Both of them paused, turning towards the bathroom. 

Dark was the first to react, opening the balcony door and stepping outside. Anti watched through the glass as he took a few deep breaths, drawing his auras back into himself. 

After Dark calmed down, he stepped back in. Anti still hadn’t moved, standing between the balcony and the rest of the room. He studied the other demon, who suddenly looked tired. “You love her, don’t you?” He whispered, this time with no malice behind his words. 

Dark took a moment before answering, his voice so quiet that it was more befitting of Damien than the man that currently stood before Anti. “I do.” 

Before he could say anything else, the bathroom door opened and Y/n walked out, her towel still around her shoulders. “Am I interrupting something?” She asked innocently, unaware of the conversation that had just transpired. 

Anti shook his head. “Nope.” He said. “I was just waiting to use the shower.” Stepping away from Dark, he crossed the room, stepping past Y/n to enter the small bathroom. “What time are we leaving tomorrow?” He asked from the doorway.

“We’re leaving at 7:00. If you’re not up by then, you’re running back.” Dark replied. 

“Fine.” Anti bit back before shutting the bathroom door behind him. He had a lot to think about. 

Chapter Text

December came too soon, and with it, work. The coffeeshop was busier in the colder months, and—even though it wasn’t anywhere near Christmas yet—more and more people seemed to come in every day, stopping in at the cafe with bags and large packages that I could only assume contained gifts. 

While some days were still slow, most of them were busy and no matter how many people were on shift, there never seemed to be enough to handle the ever increasing amount of customers. It exhausted me, especially when—on particularly busy or stressful days—I began to be plagued with thoughts that weren’t mine. When I told Dark, he was concerned that I was overworking myself. 

“I’ll take less hours.” I told him. My paycheck for the last month would be ready in a couple days, and I could talk to Andrew about the schedule then. Of course, I hadn’t counted on how busy the shop would be or how tired I would become before that happened.

It had been a long day, and I was looking forward to going home. My skin was crawling, my cheerful smile starting to slip and crack at the edges. I understood, better than anyone, how Dark and Anti felt around other people, especially now. Every sound grated against my ears, every brush against my skin abrasive. 

The patrons in the coffee shop were hummingbirds, their thoughts flitting around quickly and aimlessly. Grocery lists, first dates, to-do lists—it was exhausting, enough to give me a headache. 

Cold fingers brushed my own, a familiar, calming, gesture. Dark leaned over the counter, dark eyes studying my own for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Your shift ended five minutes ago.” He spoke quietly, which I appreciated. I didn’t need another loud noise to add to the pain in my already pounding head.

“I need to talk to Andrew about-” I started, but he cut me off with a simple shake of his head. 

“Go home.” The green-haired glitch interrupted our quiet conversation. I hadn’t even noticed him come over to the counter. “I’ll talk to Andrew.”

I rubbed my face tiredly, considering Anti’s offer before reluctantly agreeing. “Alright. . . if you’re sure.” It was clear that he had already made up his mind and I was too exhausted to even try to change it. Instead, I untied my apron as I walked back to the staff room. “I’m clocking out.” I told Andrew as I switched my apron out for my coat. 

“When are you picking up your paycheck?” He asked, looking up from his phone screen. I shrugged noncommittally, avoiding giving him an answer as I put on my coat and grabbed my purse. 

“Anti’s getting it for me today.” I admitted. “I would stay and pick it up myself, but I really need to get home. My head is killing me, or I would stay.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Andrew stopped me from rambling on, giving me a soft smile. “Go ahead and go home. I’ll check up on you later, okay?”

I hesitated for a minute before finally sighing and letting myself relax. “Okay. Thanks Andrew.” He nodded at me, looking back at his phone. “Do me a favor and just text me, okay? Don’t come by. I might not be able to answer the door, and you know my roommate works odd hours. . .”

“Sure thing.” He said, his phone keyboard clicking softly as he typed out a text. “Answer when you can, and I hope you feel better.” Since I had my things, and the conversation seemed to be over, I rejoined my companions in the cafe. 

“Are you ready?” Dark asked me, and I nodded. I was more than ready to leave, a buzzing sensation starting to cloud my mind. 

“What about Anti?” I asked, making the glitch look up from his phone. “It might be a few hours before Andrew can get enough time to give you my check and talk about scheduling. It’s a busy day here today.”

Anti flashed me a cocksure grin. “Don’t worry, doll. I can handle it. Now go back home, you look like a fucking mess.” His tone was offhand, flippant, belying the concern that he did his best to pretend wasn’t there.

I considered making a snarky reply to him, but ultimately decided that I was too tired. “We’ll see you in a few hours.” Dark said, his tone clipped. As per usual, Anti wasn’t the only one pretending not to feel. “Be careful.”

Anti didn’t say anything in response, and it was clear that Dark didn’t expect him to, as he was already halfway to the door by the time that I looked to Anti for an answer. The glitch was already on his phone again, but he looked up to make a small shooing motion. He smirked at me, mouthed “I’ll be fine”, and then returned to his phone once more. 

I caught up to Dark at the door of the coffee shop, waiting patiently. He opened the door for me and I shivered as a blast of cold air hit me. As I stepped outside, the chill only got worse, late November bleeding into early December. The promise of snow hung heavy in the air, clouding the sky and weighing down the tree branches.

Dark seemed unaffected by the cold, still wearing nothing but his signature suit. If I didn’t know any better, I might have thought those were the only clothes that he owned. While I shivered in the cold, he paid no mind to it, unlocking his car and opening the door for me before getting in and turning the car on.

As he drove, warm air slowly started to filter through the vents, and I started to relax. My headache began to dissipate now that I was away from both the hubbub of the coffee shop and all of its people and the early winter chill. “It looks like it’s going to snow.” I murmured, staring out the window.

Dark shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road. “Maybe.” He seemed to consider something before speaking again. “If you really wanted to see snow, we could go somewhere where it snows more often.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, slightly alarmed at his tone. I looked over at him, but he didn’t meet my eyes, continuing to drive.

“Anti and I have been talking.” Dark began. “It might not be safe to stay here anymore, for any of us. We might have to move.”

“What about your. . . business?” I asked. I was grasping at the few straws I had left and missing. They slipped through my fingers, leaving me with nothing but shock. 

Dark sighed. “Our work can be restarted somewhere else. Your life is worth more than what we’ve built here.”

“I don’t want to move. My whole life is here, and I’ve known you for less than three months! Whatever this is, I want out.” Although it was far from the first time we’d had this argument, this time, it felt more important. What had once seemed like a last resort was creeping closer and closer, threatening to become a reality. 

The car pulled over on the side of the road, the normally calm demon’s auras flickering. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, and I could tell he was struggling to control himself. “You can’t just opt out . You don’t just get to quit, and our enemies will stop looking for you. This isn’t a game you can just press pause on and go on with your life. You’ve stepped behind the curtain, and you’re just a human. You were never meant to be here. You need protection.”

“What if I don’t want your protection anymore?!” I bit back tears, aware that I was shouting. “I just want my life to be normal again!”

“Your life will never be normal again.” His tone was frigid, effectively ending the conversation as he pulled back onto the road. We drove in silence for a while, until we were almost back to the warehouse. Dark was the one to break the silence. “I understand that you’re upset. This is still new to you, a world you were never supposed to see.” He paused, pulling up to the back of the warehouse and parking the car. “We’ll stay if we can, for your sake. But if we have to move. . .”

“I understand.” It didn’t make my chest any less tight, or my heart any lighter, but I did understand. “But do me a favor. Worry about yourself and Anti first. After all, I’m just a human that was never meant to be here in the first place.”

Dark shook his head, a bitter, hollow, laugh tearing through the air as we got out of the car. “I’ve been doing this for several lifetimes. And Anti? Anti can handle himself.”

We’d been back for a little less than an hour, just enough time to settle in, when something shifted. We weren’t alone in the house anymore. It didn’t feel like Anti, the shielded thoughts more similar in nature to Dark’s. Instead of the quiet hum of his thoughts that I had grown accustomed to, however, the new person’s thoughts were a jumbled mess. They were a ball of string where even pulling on one piece only tightened the complicated knot. 

I considered going to get Dark, but I didn’t know exactly where he was. I just knew that he had said he would be busy and not to disturb him unless there was an emergency. Then, he had disappeared into the depths of the labyrinth that I currently called home. Not only that, but I was still stinging from my earlier conversation with him. No, I could handle this myself.

I slowly moved closer to where I assumed the stranger was, cautious in every movement. I didn’t know who it was, but as I got closer, one thing became apparent. They were hurt, badly, and in a great deal of pain.

It turned out that he was in the living room. “Oh, hello. . .” the stranger flashed me a weak smile before dissolving into a coughing fit. With each movement, more and more blood soaked through the cloth he held against his right side. His shirt was soaked with blood around the wound, dried, rust-colored patches discoloring his hand. “Does. . .” He coughed again. “Does Damien still live here?”

“Damien?” I questioned cautiously, backing up a few steps as I noticed the gun lying next to him. Dark had been right. I was in over my head. 

The man followed my gaze to the gun. “Please. . .” he rasped. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to see Damien. . . please.” Now that I was able to get a better look at him, there was something oddly familiar about him.

Despite his casual manner of dress—a white shirt and casual slacks, faded pink suspenders the same color as his mustache— he reminded me of Dark. They had the same facial structure, the same body type, they even gave off the same energy. I considered his odd request for someone named Damien. I thought that I had heard that name before, but I couldn’t remember where. 

It was time to get Dark. He would know what to do about this whole situation. “Hang on, I’m going to get help.” I told the man. He nodded, and then winced as the movement jostled his wound. 

I could feel time slipping through my fingers as I ran through the corridors. This man’s life was in my hands, and I needed to find Dark, quickly. After a few agonizingly long minutes, I found myself in front of Dark’s office.

I took a minute to catch my breath before knocking on the door. Without waiting for an answer, I entered. Predictably, Dark looked annoyed by the interruption. “Did you need something?” He asked. “Because I was under the impression I told you I was busy.”

“I know,” I gasped, still short of breath. “But. . . There's a man bleeding out on the couch. I didn’t know what to do, so-”

Dark stiffened, his gaze becoming sharper. “What?” His tone was alarmed, bordering on worried. “What did he look like? Did he say anything?” 

I quickly described the man to Dark, who murmured something quietly under his breath, standing up quickly. “He asked for someone named Damien.” I explained, which only seemed to increase Dark’s alarm. 

Without saying a word, he started towards the living room. His strides were long and hurried, and I could barely keep up with him. We were there in less than half the time it had taken me to get to Dark in the first place. 

He stopped suddenly, keeping his distance, as if he was afraid of getting too close to the injured man. As I made my way past him, I saw why. The man on the couch was barely breathing, his eyes closed. Dark took a shaky step forward, as if in a trance, and almost like he had heard it, the other man opened his eyes. 

A small smile graced his pale, exhausted face. “Damien. . . it’s been too long.” 

“Will. . .” Dark whispered, at the other man’s side in an instant. “What happened?”

Chapter Text

His phone's battery was on thirty percent, and despite what he had told Dark and Y/n, he was getting extremely bored. If Andrew didn’t hurry up, he’d probably just go home and face the backlash. Getting chewed out by the monochrome asshole was better than being bored out of his mind here. 

The only good thing was that no one was trying to talk to him. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any humans today, and, although they didn’t know why, they were inclined to avoid him. He smirked. Sometimes his unsettling lack of an aura had its benefits. 

“Anti?” The glitch recognized Andrew’s voice before he even looked up, so he took his time, pretending to be engrossed in his phone before finally pushing the full intensity of his attention onto the poor boy who stood in front of him. And make no mistake, he was a boy. 

It didn’t matter that he was probably almost as tall as Anti and of roughly the same build. Andrew was a mere child to Anti. As he sized the other man up, Anti noted that Andrew was no more than thirty, more likely somewhere around twenty-five or twenty-six.  He enjoyed the way that Andrew seemed to be nervous under his gaze, and had to suppress a smirk. “Yeah?” The glitch asked. 

“Um. . . Y/n said that you were going to pick up her paycheck and discuss scheduling with me?” Even Andrew’s tone was nervous, and Anti was having way too much fun. This was well worth the time he had spent waiting. 

“Yeah. I am. Are we going to discuss it here or is there someplace else we can go?” 

“I have her check, but the break room has several other employees in it right now.” Anti scowled at Andrew’s statement, and the boy quickly rushed into his next one. “Um, it’s a little unconventional, but the alleyway’s not busy? Sometimes there’s someone smoking back there, but since it's been so cold recently, no one’s back there right now.” 

Anti, high on the thought of terrorizing Andrew more where no one was watching, readily agreed. “Sure. Why not?” Without a second thought, he stood, shoving his cell phone into his back pocket, and followed Andrew. 

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Dark had sent Y/n to go get some towels, bandages, and water while he grabbed the medical supplies. It wasn’t as if this was his first time removing a bullet, he had done it plenty of times to himself, and even more for
Anti, but he was still worried. Not only that, but he was loath to leave Will alone for more than a few minutes. In such a critical condition, it must have taken the man almost all of his energy to jump through space and time into their living room. If he accidentally did it again, as he was sometimes prone to do in times of extreme duress, it would most likely kill the otherwise immortal man. 

Y/n was already back by the time that Dark had gotten the ‘first aid’ kit that he and Anti kept in case of emergencies. She was applying pressure to Will’s gunshot wound with one of the towels, her emotions written across her face. It was clear that she didn’t think that Will was going to make it. And if they didn’t help him soon, Dark was inclined to agree with her. 

“Move.” He commanded, his voice coming out colder than he meant it to. She didn’t seem bothered, doing as he said, but then again, he doubted that much of what he said could faze her anymore. She knew him more intimately than almost anyone else, and she had been the one to discover Will on the sofa. She was most likely in shock.

“What can I do to help?” She wanted to know. 

“Take his shirt off. I need to remove the bullet.” Dark said, beginning to unpack the kit and trusting that she would follow his orders. She did, if her sharp intake of breath was anything to go by. He couldn’t look at how bad it was right now, or he would have lost all sense of what he was doing. It would have been better to let Anti do it. He was too close to Will to be able to completely sever himself from his emotions, and Y/n had no experience. 

But, unfortunately, Anti wasn’t here. He was still dealing with Y/n’s work. Dark could only hope that that wasn’t going nearly as poorly as this was.

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Anti could see why there was no one in the alley at this time of year. If it had been cold nearly a month ago when he and Dark had first taken Y/n out to this very alley to talk to her, it was freezing now. If he had been a human, Anti would have been shivering in just his ripped black jeans and t-shirt, but—as it was—he was perfectly warm. 

His human companion, on the other hand, was shivering, despite wearing a coat. Andrew looked like there were a hundred other places that he’d rather be right now, which made Anti smirk. He figured that he could allow himself that, considering that the human wasn’t looking at him at the moment. “So.” Anti said, shifting his weight to lean against the wall and watch his breath cloud the air. “The check, and the schedule.” 

“R-right.” Andrew’s teeth were chattering, and he breathed into his hands to warm them up before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pocket calendar. “Can we talk about scheduling first?” 

He was probably afraid that Anti would grab Y/n’s check and leave. And under any other circumstances, he’d be right. As it was, Anti scowled. “I’m not going to leave without scheduling their work days first.”

“Of course not.” Andrew said, in a way that implied that he didn’t believe Anti in the slightest. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Will.” Dark said, and the other man opened his eyes the slightest bit. “I’m going to remove the bullet now.” Will just nodded, closing his eyes again. Dark took a deep breath. It really would be better to wait for Anti, who was unattached to this whole situation, but he didn’t have the time to spare.

“Go get a couple of bags of blood.” Dark told Y/n, who was hovering around nervously. As much as Will would hate it, he’d need them after the bullet was removed. 

He took the towel that Y/n was holding against the wound, and she disappeared into the kitchen. Dark steadied himself, removing the towel from the wound. At least it was the kind he was familiar with. He analyzed the bullet hole before trying to remove the bullet. It had been made by a high caliber handgun, and had struck Will between his ninth and tenth ribs. He had been lucky. It wasn’t a clean shot, by any means, but it had managed to miss all of his internal organs. The shooting had been personal.

It was clearly a shot that could have been aimed anywhere, if Dark was reading it correctly, but it had hit Will in one of the few places that it would cause the least amount of internal damage. Whoever had shot Will wanted to make sure that his death was slow and painful, that he would bleed to death instead of any of his organs rupturing or shutting down. The gunman had known who they were shooting, and that was a troubling thought. 

Dark pushed it out of his mind, focusing only on the gunshot wound for now. He would have time to contemplate the sinister implications later. For now, he needed to get the bullet out. He took the forceps from the medical kit that laid open beside him and, apologizing silently, began to search for the bullet in his friend’s torso. 

Will made quiet noises of pain, and Dark had to force himself not to panic. If he was still making noise, he was still alive. The focus now was finding the bullet so Will could heal. Seconds ticked by, and eventually a whole minute. Will’s quiet noises were nearly inaudible now, and Dark was starting to panic.

His search for the bullet was making Will lose blood even faster, and he still hadn’t found anything. In reality, it only took him a minute and twenty-seven seconds to find the bullet, but in his mind, it was an eternity before the metal tip of the forceps clicked against the bullet. 

Thankfully, it was still in one piece, and Dark pulled it out without too much trouble. He reapplied pressure to the wound that was now already starting to heal and exhaled slowly. Y/n had returned with the blood at some point during the process, he didn’t know when, and she now silently handed him a bag. 

Dark knew that she probably had questions, but she was wise enough to know that now was not the time to ask them. 

He ripped open the corner of the bag, and before the smell of it could reach his frayed nerves, held it to his friend’s mouth. “Come on, Will.” Dark said. His tone was sharp enough to cut, and he saw Y/n flinch back from him involuntarily. He knew that he should be trying to make his voice more gentle, for her, but he couldn’t find the energy. “Come on. Please.” There was a note of desperation creeping into his voice that he hadn’t heard in a long time. 

But he was desperate. He was too afraid that he was too late, that Will’s wound healing had taken up the last of his strength and killed him, to care that his mask was cracking. Finally, there came a raspy voice. “. . . I don’t like blood.” 

Dark gave a sigh of relief that he pretended was simply annoyance. “Will. You have to.” He said, his tone once again cold and matter of fact. “You need to recover your strength, and the quickest way to do that, however much you dislike it, is by drinking blood.”

Will looked for a second, as much as a dying man can, like a petulant child who was deciding if he’d rather die than take his medicine. After a moment, he finally opened his mouth, allowing Dark to feed him the blood. Despite his complaints, he drank greedily, draining the bag and then the other two that Y/n had brought. 

Color began to return to his face, and Dark thought, wearlily, that maybe everything might be alright after all.  

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Anti wasn’t enjoying this as much as he thought he would be. Yes, seeing Andrew shiver in the bitter cold was amusing, but his phone was now at eleven percent from using his calendar to schedule Y/n’s work days and playing a game while he waited for Andrew to double check and record the dates by hand. He watched his battery tick down to ten percent as he sent a text to Dark. 

Almost done. Just finished scheduling. He sent a copy of the days Y/n had to work with the text before shoving his phone back in his pocket, barely pausing to check if the text went through. 

“The check?” He asked impatiently, and Andrew gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“About that. . .” He said, still a little nervously. “Look, Anti. I’m sorry.” 

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Will seemed to be doing better. At the very least, he was sitting up, and no longer resembled a corpse. To a human, he would undoubtedly still look quite strange. To Dark, he looked normal. 

Of course, being covered in blood wasn’t an uncommon sight in his world.

Dark’s phone went off, and he glanced at it briefly. It was a text from Anti, telling Dark that he was almost finished meeting with Andrew. Good. Dark would feel better when Anti was home. Something nagged at him, a storm brewing on the horizon. 

“Will. What happened?” Dark asked, and Will turned to him, snapping out of whatever trance he had been in. 

“Ah.” The former colonel’s voice was soft as he addressed Dark. “Actor shot me.” 

Dark closed his eyes, not wanting it to be true. “Are you sure? When was this?”

When he opened his eyes, Will was staring at him. “Damien. . .” He said quietly. “It was Actor. Maybe two months ago.” 

“Why?” Dark asked, finding it a hard pill to swallow. Of course, he had known that Actor was here, that Actor was still alive. It would have been impossible for him to deny after Actor had called him. But still, he hadn’t known that Actor had been here for so long. He had thought that they had been safe, for at least a little while. 

“He killed Celine!” Will’s voice broke as he disguised his sadness with anger. “I wanted him to know the same pain! He had to know what he’d taken from me.” 

It wasn’t hard for Dark to read between the lines of what Will was saying, but he wanted to be sure. It was a shocking revelation. “Actor has a lover?”

“I was going to kill him. . .” Will murmured, still lost in his own world. “Take from Actor what he took from me.” 

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“You’re sorry?” Anti asked cautiously. Alarm bells that should have been going off earlier were now ringing in his ears. Andrew, clearly uncomfortable in the cold, had asked to meet him in the alley instead of somewhere else. Even if the break room had been full, there were undoubtedly other places. 

Andrew’s nervousness, far too much for just Anti to cause. He had been so caught up in his own amusement that he had failed to see the signs. He reached for his knife.

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“Will. Will, listen to me.” Dark dragged his friend back to reality. “Do you know who it is?” 

“He had brown hair and blue eyes. His name. . .” Will trailed off for a minute, trying to remember. “It. . . started with an ‘A’?” 

“Was it Andrew?” Y/n’s voice shook, but it rang clear. Dark turned to look at her. He thought she had gone back to her room, too shocked at what had happened to stay, but he had been wrong. She sat behind him in a chair, gripping the arms tightly. Her body shook almost as hard as her voice had. 

Will looked thoughtful for a minute. “Andrew. . . Andrew. . .” He turned the name over a few times, testing it out. “Yeah, that was his name. Andrew.” 

The storm that had been brewing on the horizon moved closer, faster than Dark had thought possible. He checked his phone, his stomach twisting when he noticed that there was no text from Anti updating him. The last text he had received seemed to mock him as he sent a hurried message.

Don’t worry about the check. Come home. Now. 

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“I wouldn’t do that.” A cold, familiar voice said, momentarily stalling Anti. Actor. He looked at Andrew, whose eyes were wide and nervous, and puzzle pieces started to click into place.

Anti felt the cold metal of a gun at the back of his neck and weighed his options. “I could kill you before you ever got the chance to fire.” Anti challenged, and the response was a short, derisive laugh. 

“I don’t think so. Besides, you’re surrounded. There’s one of you and a dozen of us.” 

Anti’s phone chose that minute to go off. “Is that your lover?” Actor asked. “Are you going to ask him for help?” 

“Fuck off.” Anti snarled. “I can kill you all by myself. If you were a real man, you would take me on, one on one.” 

“Bold words for the demon with a gun aimed at his head.” Actor said smoothly. “Why don’t you hand over your phone and your weapons, and I won’t kill you.” 

“You asshole. If you think that you can take me that easily, you’re more of an idiot than I thought.” 

“You have information that I want.” Actor reasoned. “This is your last chance. I would much prefer for you to give me the information that I want, rather than getting it off your phone once you’re dead. Of course, I’ll kill you either way, but if you cooperate, it can be quick and. . . relatively painless.” 

“Go to fucking hell.” Anti spat. “I’m not giving you anything.” 

“Chase.” Actor said, and Anti’s head spun at the appearance of the dark haired man that should, by all accounts, be dead. If the expression on his face was anything to go by, Chase wasn’t too happy to see Anti either.

Neither his gaze nor his grip trembled as he pointed his own gun at Anti. “Just give me a reason.” The normally soft-spoken man said, his voice dripping with malice. 

Anti recalculated his odds. No matter what he chose to do, they didn’t look good. He gritted his teeth, spitting out the words like they were poison. “Fine.” As much as he hated it, now was not the time to fight. Especially not with a new, unstable adversary. If nothing else, he had to live long enough to let Dark know about Chase and Andrew. 

“I’m glad to know that even error messages can see reason.” Actor said, and Anti snarled at the practically audible smirk in his voice. “You won’t have to worry about it for that much longer, Anti. I happen to know some excellent programmers that can erase glitches from a system. It’ll be like you were never even here.” 

Enraged, Anti whirled around to hit Actor, but the last thing he saw was the worry in Andrew’s eyes.

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Dark paced, his worry mounting with every second that passed. As he heard the familiar sound of a text coming in, it melted away. 

The blissful moment didn’t last, as his worry came back with a vengeance when he checked his phone. It was quickly usurped by fury as he read the text over and over again, refusing to process it.

“There’s no ending for the likes of us. It’s time to wake up.”

Chapter Text

Mark rolled over in bed as a flash of lightning illuminated the sky. The storm that had been brewing on the horizon was here, and it pelted the windows with rain, its fury knowing no bounds. Mark tossed and turned in his bed, held captive in his dreams by some unseen force. Suddenly, he jolted awake, gasping for air and clawing desperately at the empty bed beside him. 

His sheets were soaked in cold sweat, his hair matted to his brow as thunder crashed outside. Mark took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. "It was just a nightmare." He murmured, trying to convince himself. "Only a terrible, terrible nightmare."  

The light flicked on. 

It blinded the youtuber, and he threw up his hand to shield his eyes. His adrenaline kicked into overdrive, the nightmare still far too fresh on his mind as his vision adjusted to the startling brightness. A figure loomed in his doorway, just as frightening as the storm outside. "Dark." Mark breathed once he found his voice. "You startled me." 

"Apologies." The shadow leaning against the doorframe replied, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "I understand that it is late, for your kind," Mark could all but sense the distaste in his voice. "But, regrettably, I require your help." 

Despite the unbreakable bond between the two of them, Dark and Mark tried to stay as far away from each other as possible, neither staying involved in the other's business for too long. They would occasionally exchange visits—or favours—but that was the extent of their relationship. Even though it could almost be considered amicable on a good day, their relationship was often tense, even frigid, and Mark knew that he was lucky to still be alive. 

Even though Dark was more even tempered than Anti was, the demon still could have easily killed him and taken his form. He would have been gone forever, like Sean was, his existence barely more than a memory. 

"What is it, Dark?" Mark asked, pushing away his intrusive thoughts. "If you have business that requires an audience, it'll have to wait until tomorrow." It was already 11:20, if his alarm clock was to be believed, and with no scheduled video, it was unlikely that the fanbase would be awake and ready to give Dark the kind of attention he would require from Mark’s audience. Not only that, but Mark himself was in no state to film, especially after the nightmare that he had just woken up from.

"No." Dark said slowly, his tone icy. "The assistance I require tonight is of a much more. . . human kind." As if that explained anything at all. Mark was about to say something, perhaps ask for an explanation, when Dark stepped aside to reveal a girl, probably in her mid-twenties. She looked nervous, almost frightened, and Mark couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Dark didn’t usually associate with humans, and he couldn’t help but wonder what their connection was. Was it business, or something more personal?

Mark’s pulse quickened. Dark’s business. Although he didn’t know—and had no interest in knowing—what it was, he knew that it was highly illegal. Was she tied up in Dark’s business? Was this what Dark expected of him that the demon would come to his house so late at night?

Mark took a deep breath, calming himself. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t do any of them any good, especially when he could just ask Dark what he needed. Pushing his sheets back, Mark got out of bed. 

One step at a time. Just ask Dark what he wanted. After all, the demon had never lied to him before and he wasn’t likely to start now. "Dark-" Mark started, not quite sure where he was going with the statement, but the monochromatic figure cut him off. 

"Mark." Dark's voice was matter of fact, like a parent scolding a small, needy child. " You know there are places that I must go that a human cannot follow me to, and I guaranteed her safety, especially tonight. Either you help us, or go back to your nightmares and forget we were here." The demon’s words were bitter, but Mark said nothing. He deserved the malice.

The air grew colder, a tense static permeating the air. The rain pounded against Mark's windows as he looked into Dark's piercing gaze. One red eye, one blue. 

Guilt wormed its way into his consciousness as he started into the normally dark eyes that were now bright with heterochromia. A voice, no louder than the pounding of the rain outside, whispered in his ear. Mark wished he could ignore it, but it lingered, repeating the same phrase over and over again until Mark found himself accepting the truth that he had pushed back to a corner of his mind. 

Your fault. 

Dark looked at him expectantly, a mask of coldness disguising his emotions. He was waiting for an answer, an answer that the overbearing guilt pushed Mark to give without another thought. 

"Go." He fought to keep his voice steady. "She'll be safe here.”

--------------------------------------------

Despite the fact that he had brought her, Dark seemed to hesitate for a moment, reluctant to leave her. The intensity of his dual colored eyes bored into Mark’s eyes, and he found it impossible to look away. They stood there for a minute, locked in their silent exchange, before Dark’s companion cleared her throat. “Dark.” She whispered. “I’ll be fine. Please, just go.” 

Dark tore his eyes from Mark’s, letting them rest on her instead, and Mark saw an unfamiliar softness in Dark’s fury. “If anything happens, call me.” The demon murmured, almost too quietly for Mark to hear. She nodded. 

“Go.” Dark’s lips pressed into a thin line, obviously not happy at being told what to do, but he nodded back before taking a step forward and vanishing into thin air. 

Mark stared at the spot that Dark had just been in. He would never get used to that, no matter how many times he saw it. Then, he shook himself. There were more important things to think about right now than however Dark’s abilities worked. 

His gaze shifted over to his new guest, who was currently trying to hide her obvious anxiety. “Hi.” He took a small step towards her, and then, when she showed no signs of being afraid of him, another. “I don’t think I caught your name.” He gave her the same gentle smile that had charmed so many of his fans, and she seemed to relax a little. 

“Y/n.” She replied. Her voice was quiet, quieter than it had been when Dark was in the room. Mark assumed that she hadn’t wanted to tell Dark whatever had been troubling her, which was reasonable. The monochromatic demon had seemed angrier than Mark had ever seen him before, and it probably wasn’t a wise idea to add anything else to what seemed to be an already precarious situation. 

“Y/n.” Mark was only a couple feet from her now, and she showed no signs of having even noticed him moving towards her. “I’m Mark.”

“I know.” She replied quietly. “Dark told me. He said that I could trust you.” Mark did his best not to show his surprise. Dark trusted him? That was yet another thought that he would have to analyze later, once he had figured out how to handle this situation. 

“Um. . .” He was unsure what to say next, so instead he simply closed the rest of the distance between the two of them. He stood next to her awkwardly for a moment before she turned to look at him directly. She didn’t say anything, and the tense silence stretched onwards until Mark finally said something, just to break it. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in Mark’s living room, each wrapped in a blanket. He kept the lights off at her request, letting flashes of lightning illuminate the room every few minutes. The silence between them was more companionable now, less strained as they sipped their hot chocolate. 

“Are you really a youtuber?” Y/n asked. Mark almost laughed. It wasn’t the question he had been expecting, but he wasn’t sure what question he had expected. 

“Yeah, I am. I was almost an engineer though.” He replied. “What about you? What do you do?”

She stared into the bottom of her mug, a pensive look on her face. “I’m a barista.” She seemed like she was going to say something else, but she didn’t. 

“I guess I should have let you make the hot chocolate then.” Mark joked, trying to distract her. She laughed quietly. 

“I’m glad to have hot chocolate that I don’t have to make, even if it is from the shitty microwave packets.” She admitted. “I work a lot, and this time of year can be. . . stressful.” She sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but in this weather, a lot of people want coffee or hot chocolate or a pastry. So the coffee shop I work at gets busy in a hurry.” 

Mark smiled. “Where do you work?” She told him the name, and he shook his head. “I’ve seen it, but never been there. It always looks so festive this time of year though, with all the lights put up early for Christmas.” 

She nodded. “My boss is one of those people who’s really into Christmas. I think we’re always the first shop to have them up.” The storm outside wasn’t as loud now, and the rain on the windows had fallen into a calm background noise. Y/n seemed more relaxed, and Mark was surprised to find that he was as well, his nightmare little more than a fading memory.

He hadn’t realized it, but it had been a long time since he had had someone over, just to talk to. Not for work, not because there was some pressing issue, but just talking to someone. It was nice. This was nice.

Y/n paused, her mug lifted halfway to her lips, and she looked over at Mark. Her eyes scanned his face, and, apparently finding whatever she had been looking for, she smiled softly. “Yeah. It is.”

Chapter Text

Anti winced internally as Chase hit him again, making him involuntarily curl in on himself. He couldn’t help it. As much as he was trying to act like none of this was hurting him, the truth was that Sean’s his body wasn’t made to take this kind of abuse. It had belonged to a human once, and despite Anti’s inhabitation of it changing how it behaved, the body still had its limitations. 

He closed his eyes for a brief second, focusing on catching the breath that had been driven out of him. “Is that all?” He tried to sneer at his adversaries, but the attempt was weak, his voice coming out quiet and raspy. 

“Chase.” Actor’s voice cut through the air, wounding Anti more than anything else had. He had been so stupid. He had foolishly believed that he was safe, so wrapped up in himself, so self-assured, he had believed that he was invulnerable. 

Of course, he knew now that that wasn’t true, and maybe he had known it then too. But he had gone so long doing whatever he wanted, killing and killing and killing, never losing a battle, that he had begun to think that he couldn’t lose a battle. 

Actor was still speaking, saying something to Chase, but Anti couldn’t hear them through the ringing in his ears. He watched the silent scene before him in slow motion. His head ached, partially from when Actor had knocked him out in the alley behind the cafe, and partially from having it slammed against the concrete floor so many times. 

He closed his eyes, fighting a headache. His skin prickled, numbed by the biting cold of the floor of whatever warehouse he was lying on. Did Dark even know he was gone? Did Dark even care ? Anti hoped so. 

Part of him hoped that Dark would appear at any moment, that they would be able to make another ‘last stand’ against Actor. But a bigger part of him hoped that Dark was far, far away. Dark didn’t know about Chase, didn’t know about Andrew, and he would be walking into a trap. Anti didn’t want that. If he was going to die here, then he hoped that Dark wouldn’t. 

And Y/n. If they were both gone, then who would be left to protect her? She was in more danger than either of them had imagined, the threat constantly looming over her shoulder, and none of them had ever realized it. Anti hoped that Dark would not come, that he would simply die alone here, fighting until he drew his last breath.  

He had never planned to die, but he wasn’t afraid of it. There had never been a reason for the glitch to fear death, and he wasn’t about to start now. In a way, it was fitting, if he died like this. 

Dark had told him something once, and—as per usual—he hadn’t been listening, but one particular phrase had stuck in his head from the lecture. “Violence begets violence.” Dark had said. “Those who are violent will suffer violent fates.” 

Irony, he supposed. It was supposed to be an empty threat, some abject lesson on why he shouldn’t kill whenever he felt like it. But now, it was so much more. Anti wasn’t sorry for how he had lived his life, but, as it flashed before his eyes, he wished that he had done more with it. 

A sudden, vicious kick broke him from his thoughts. He coughed, and then winced at the pain of drawing breath. Opening his eyes, he stared up at Chase and Actor, straining to make sense of the words that were coming from their mouths.

He pushed himself up as much as he could, propping himself up with one arm. He coughed into his palm, watching as it came away splattered with blood. He was going to die here. 

“What did you do with my family?” Chase was shouting, and Actor was holding him back. Probably because they couldn’t get any information out of him if he was dead. He closed his eyes again, trying to think. 

Chase had a family? Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sean supplied a memory of a wife—ex-wife?—named Stacy, and children. Had something happened to them? 

If something had, Anti understood why Chase suspected him. In the days when they were all still trapped on the other side of a screen, before Anti had made it out, unwittingly bringing all the other egos with him, he had frequently tormented the others. But now? 

He had so many other things to do. He hadn’t thought about the others in years. They had been the furthest thing from his mind. 

“Your family?” Anti’s voice crackled weakly as he coughed again. “You have a family?” He had meant to try to diffuse Chase, to find out what had happened, but his words had the opposite effect.

“You bastard! What did you do to them?” Chase shouted, his voice cracking with hurt and rage. A long time ago, Anti might have been pleased to hear Chase’s frustration. But, at the moment, he was just confused. 

“Chase.” Actor’s voice was calm, soothing, but Chase would not be consoled. He descended on Anti in a fury, lashing out at the glitch. It was all Anti could do to curl up in a ball and weather out Chase’s rage.

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“Anti.” The voice was fuzzy as Anti faded in and out, drifting like a feather in the wind. “Anti!” He didn’t want to pay attention. It was easier like this, not knowing if he was dead or alive, not having to worry about the state of his mortal body. “This is Sean. You need to wake up.” So he was still alive. Not that he wanted to be. Ignoring the voice, ignoring Sean, was easier than facing whatever suffering awaited him on the other side of the curtain. “Anti!”

Anti groaned, finally conceding and opening his eyes. Everything hurt, and he was sure that this must be what it felt like to be dead. He wished he were. It would be better than going through this again. 

He took stock of his surroundings. He was still lying on the concrete floor, but he was alone now. Maybe they had left him to die. He took a deep, shuddering breath, which made him cough up more blood. 

He was running out of that, wasn’t he? He hadn’t drank any in two days, and he was rapidly losing whatever was left in his system. “Dark. . .” Anti whispered. “I don’t think I’m making it out of this alive. I’m sorry.” 

He closed his eyes, making his peace with the idea, and he felt a drop of water slide down his face. 

The roof must be leaking.