Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pip

Many strange events had occurred to Pip within his short seventeen years of life here on earth. Many of which the blonde British boy had no reasonable explanation for and seeking out answers seemed either an impossible feat or could lead him into a potentially dangerous situation in which he would prefer to not get himself tied up in. So, in spite of all the weird shit that happened in his life, Pip had come to accept these things as relatively normal. He would go on about his daily life without digging too deep into all the whys concerning how he ended up in these seemingly impossible situations. He had become pretty good at turning a blind eye to the unnatural events that took place in his town of residence, the small mountain town of South Park. On most days, Pip was more concerned with making it home unscathed and escaping the wrath of his bullies as best he could. Anything else was only but a slight hindrance.

Pip lived a fairly routine-based day-to-day life, he would say, which he never minded. Sure, perhaps he also lived a somewhat boring life, some might say, but to Pip, boring was good. Boring was great, actually. He couldn't ask for anything better than an average boring day-to-day life. Because boring meant that he was safe. Boring meant that no one else was paying him any mind. Boring meant that he had plenty of time to catch up on his studies and that he'd had a relatively decent day at his part-time job working at the local bookshop. Boring was easy, it was comfortable, and he preferred it if it meant that he could keep to himself and go on about his days relatively unperturbed.

Although Pip did prefer his peace and had thoroughly enjoyed these past few days of his boring life going about his routine tasks undisturbed, he couldn't help but to find it very peculiar...

Peculiar that he had been granted this peace and quiet for such a long stretch. It was so peculiar that Pip now found himself feeling uneasy by it. As much as he disliked his bullies and fought tooth and nail to escape their merciless antics, it felt strange to him to walk out the front doors of his school, looking over his shoulder every minute or so, anticipating a sneak attack which never came. He couldn't understand why they had all suddenly lost interest in him. Was it that they had moved on to somebody else after all of these years? Was there a new student whom he was unaware of? Could it really be that they'd just suddenly lost all interest in him? Or was it something else? Perhaps one of those strange occurrences in which Pip would never garner a real answer to?

One would think that Pip would be elated by such a revelation, and part of him did feel that way, but the uneasiness he felt was much more consuming. As if he hadn't had to keep watch over his shoulder enough, now he was on high alert nearly every waking moment. Waiting, wondering, somewhat hoping that something would come along and happen. Something that would inevitably destroy the peace, yet could allow him a moment of relief.

The longer that this went on, the more that Pip began to wonder—what if it wasn't any of those things he had thought before? What if his bullies were simply planning something else? Something more elaborate, something which took more time to pull together? Something potentially deadly? It was their senior year, albeit only the first semester, but still. He wouldn't put it past them to come up with something absolutely horrendous to do to him, to go out with a huge bang in their senior year, since this would be their last chance, after all.

That just had to be it, Pip thought. It made the most sense. What an awful realization. Now he'd never be able to relax so long as this continued.

Pip tried to put it out of his mind, because realistically, what could he do about it? The only thing he could do was to try to go on about his business as per usual. So, that was how Pip handled the situation, by doing what he usually did best—turning a blind eye to it. Although, he would admit that this situation was a bit more difficult to put out of his mind compared to others which did not directly impact him.

As he wandered around the bookshop following his routine closing tasks Pip hummed softly under his breath. Not that he had to worry about disturbing anyone, he was the only one left in the building as they were officially closed for the evening. It was his responsibility to close and lock up a couple days during the week and Pip rather enjoyed it. He enjoyed having this quiet time to himself. What he enjoyed less so was the trek home in the dark. Sometimes he'd take a little extra time finishing his duties just to put it off a bit longer, so he was never in any rush to get done.

A glance down at his wrist watch showed the time was a quarter 'til ten, putting him at just about on time for locking up and heading home for the night. All that was left was for him to secure the cash deposit in the safe and do one final walk-through of the stacks to ensure that the building was clear before he'd lock the doors behind him.

Once the money was safely where it should be, Pip began his last walk. None of his fellow coworkers were as diligent as he was when it came to these things, but all it had taken was for Pip to have one mishap where he'd forgotten to check between shelves before closing and had accidentally locked in a young boy who'd somehow ran off from his mother into the bookstore. After that, no matter if Pip was a hundred percent certain that the store was empty, he always made himself do one last check.

The Brit moved through the aisles slowly, tidying up a few slightly out of place books that he must have missed during his first pass. His soft humming continued in the silence of the store until a sudden noise behind him made Pip pause. It was a distinct noise, the sound of a book hitting the carpeted floor. Pip knew it without having to look, so when he turned around, he wasn't necessarily surprised to find just that—a singular softcover book lying face down on the ground.

The silence in the shop, once so comforting, now felt almost the opposite. The air around him grew colder, a subtle shift in the atmosphere around him. Pip involuntarily shivered in response.

He wasn't sure why everything felt so still and ominous all of a sudden. Books fell off the shelves all the time and it was entirely possible that he had simply brushed past this particular one without noticing and it slipped off just a few seconds thereafter. A book falling from the shelf didn't have to mean that something sinister was afloat.

Pip chuckled lightly, although a little bit of anxiety still lingered within him as he took a few steps forward to where the book lay on the floor.

“Silly me getting all worked up over nothing,” Pip chastised himself. “There's no need to feel so anxious over a book falling off the shelf.”

The book had fallen face down but open, so as Pip flipped it over, he took a second to check for any damage to the pages. This was a used bookstore, so a little damage wouldn't be a big deal, but if a page had ripped, then it would be best if he set it aside to repair before placing it back onto the shelf to sell.

Flipping over the book revealed a wall of tiny text and Pip instantly recognized it to be the thin pages of small text that made up the Holy Bible. One half of the page had folded over on itself, but as he pulled it back, he didn't notice there to be any further damage. The only thing that stuck out to him was one singular passage highlighted in neon yellow.

Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is 666.

Pip blinked.

He stared at the text for a long moment, unmoving, and the words, glowing starkly beneath the overhead fluorescent lighting, seemed to stare right back at him.

Of all the books that could have fallen, of all the verses that could have been highlighted, of all the pages that it could have fallen open to reveal, this was what was staring back at him. Something about it felt...off. Pip couldn't quite explain why it felt that way, it just did, and now that uneasiness in the pit of his stomach was back.

This...had to be some random occurrence, surely, Pip tried reasoning with himself. Just another one of those strange things that happened sometimes. There wasn't any actual meaning behind it.

Just the idea of that was absurd, really. Pip was thinking way too much into this and it was probably because he was tired after a long day of school and work. What he really needed to do was to put this book back on the shelf, finish out his task, and get back home before it grew too late.

Shaking his head, Pip took a second to smooth out the crease in the page and closed the book, tucking it securely and neatly back onto the shelf.

He didn't look back, just kept pressing forward down the rest of the aisle. He walked a bit more briskly now, picking back up the same tune he had been softly humming before in an attempt to rid himself of that eerie sensation from before.

Pip turned the corner to the next set of shelves. Once more, his feet came to a sudden halt at another noise from behind. It wasn't the sound of a book falling. No, it was softer than that. Without realizing it, Pip was holding his breath as he listened, wondering if he had simply been hearing things before or if it would come again. Just when enough seconds passed in complete silence in which Pip was convinced that his ears were playing tricks on him, the sound came again. This time a tad bit louder than the first and sounding slightly closer to where he currently stood.

Then it happened again, and again. Slow, careful, soft footsteps. That was exactly what he was hearing, there was no doubt about it.

But when Pip surveyed the area around him, he could see nothing but shelves of books.

He swallowed, his throat growing tight, yet somehow he managed to bring himself to speak out loud.

“...Hello?” Pip called out, his voice echoing faintly through the stillness. “Is...there anyone still in here?”

No answer. And no more footsteps either.

Pip inhaled quietly and attempted to force down the anxiety beginning to eat away at him. He told himself that he must be being paranoid. Obviously there was nobody else in the store but him. Plus, this was an old building, it was only natural that strange sounds would emanate from it here and there. Noises which could come across similar to the sound of footsteps, he supposed.

He forced himself to keep going, picking up speed and weaving through the rest of the shelves with practiced ease, eyes scanning the floor for misplaced books, trying to convince himself he wasn’t expecting to see another fallen Bible—or something worse. Once Pip finished his round and found nothing out of place, Pip let out a slow breath and walked back toward the front of the store to where his messenger bag hung behind the counter.

With his bag in hand, Pip slung it over one shoulder, then proceeded to lock the register before going over to flick off the overhead lights, leaving only the dim glow of the emergency exit sign. He reached for the key to the door and as he lifted his head something caught his eye in the reflection of the glass.

A dark silhouette.

Standing directly behind him.

Pip spun around, heart leaping into his throat.

But there was nothing there.

No shadow. No person. Only the empty aisles stretching out behind him in silence.

Was he really so exhausted that he was now imagining things that weren't actually there? Pip had no idea, but he didn't plan on sticking around much longer to find out whether that was the case here or not. Quickly, he turned the lock with shaking fingers, swung the door open, and stepped out into the chilly night. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the weight in his chest eased just a bit. He tugged his coat tighter around his body and started down the dim sidewalk.

This time of night on a week day, the streets of South Park were mostly empty. His usual walk home took no longer than fifteen minutes, so not very far, but this particular night his trek felt much longer.

Pip continued on his way in silence, refusing to look back over his shoulder as he tried not to think so much about the strange events that had just occurred.

Just keep walking, he told himself. There's absolutely nothing to worry about. Keep walking and get home to the safety of his foster family's home. Then he could crawl into bed for the night and hopefully have a much more peaceful slumber.

He was merely a few minutes from his home, just turning onto the street in which he lived, when something stopped him cold.

There, on the opposite side of the street just below the lamp post, stood a figure. Despite being so close to the light, for some reason, Pip was unable to make out their face. All he could tell was that the figure resembled that of a person. Someone around Pip's height, a bit on the taller side, slim, and looked to be wearing dark clothes. Perhaps a long trench coat and boots, but no hat that he could see. It was the strangest thing. He couldn't see his face, yet he had the feeling that whoever this was, that they were most certainly watching him.

Pip froze when it appeared that the mystery man was going to advance toward him. He took one step forward off the curb onto the street. Pip, for a split second, regained enough of his mobility to take a step back.

What on earth did he do in this sort of situation? Would it be smart to make a run for it? He was so close to his house and he could run fairly fast that there was a good chance that he'd make it in time. But...what happened if he didn't? Then what?

Pip took another step back at the same time that a loud crash from down the street instinctively made him flinch and whip his head in the direction from which the sound had come. Following the crash came the loud screeching of a cat somewhere far off, the beginning sounds of a cat fight taking place.

Upon realizing that was what it was, Pip quickly turned his attention across the street.

Empty.

The figure, or person, or whatever the hell it was, no longer stood there.

Confused, but not wanting to stick around much longer to find out whether that person was still lurking around, Pip promptly picked up his feet and booked it the rest of the way to his house.

His nerves were frayed thin as he worked to get the key into the lock. The fact that his hand was shaking uncontrollably made that task infinitely more difficult than it needed to be. It wasn't until he was safely inside with the door locked behind him that Pip could take a moment to exhale a relieved sigh.

He was okay. He was home and safe and there was nothing that was going to come after him here. Everything was alright.

In fact, he was sure that he was just tired and was imaging things and getting all worked up over nothing. Most likely because he had already been a little paranoid as of late and things had been feeling off for a while. Maybe once he could get in a good nights sleep and could take a short break from school and his job then he would feel better.

In the meantime, Pip thought he should focus more on taking care of himself. Perhaps he'd whip up something quick to eat, then run a warm bubble bath before going off to bed. That would be a relaxing way to end his evening and would definitely help to ease his anxiety. A nice warm cup of tea wouldn't hurt either, he thought.

Come tomorrow, the events of tonight would only become little figments of his imagination, he was sure, and going forward the worst thing he'd have to worry about would be an unexpected return to his previous normal. And although that would really fucking suck, at least it was predictable, and nothing in which Pip knew he wouldn't be able to handle. 

Chapter Text

Damien

This whole thing had started because of one stupid dream. Well, to be more precise, it actually began about eight years ago, back when Damien was only but nine years old. Back when he’d had his first taste of the mortal realm, a time which he desperately wished that he could have erased from his memory for all of eternity. 

Eight years had passed, and still to this day, Damien thought about him. The annoying blond British boy who hadn’t hesitated to approach Damien back then and offer his friendship. The same boy in which Damien had manipulated and then stabbed in the back by turning him into a fireworks display for the rest of the children who had detested them both for the majority of his short stay in the small redneck town of South Park. 

Now, it wasn’t as if Damien had spent every single day since then thinking about Philip ‘Pip’ Pirrip. No, it wasn’t like that at all. Just occasionally he would be reminded of that time and most of the time it was a fleeting thought that crossed his mind. Not anything that he dwelled on for too long. Recently, though, things had been different. 

For whatever reason, Damien had started having this dream. At first, the dream was very reminiscent of the exact event that had occurred, basically a reenactment of it that he would experience at least once a week, sometimes more frequently. Then, his dreams began to evolve beyond that. He was tormented with the most random dreams involving him and Pip as children, most of them ending with Damien inflicting some sort of horrendous pain on the other boy, always along the same theme of doing so as a terrible means to gain acceptance from their peers. 

In the beginning, Damien tried to brush the dreams off and ignore them. They didn’t mean anything, he’d told himself, and they didn’t scare him. Damien wasn’t easily affected by bad dreams in that way being that he’d spent a better part of his life surrounded by literal hellspawn. No, the dreams never brought forth a feeling of fear or anxiety, but they did affect him in another way. They left him feeling…haunted. So much so that sometimes he’d wake up in a cold sweat with Pip’s screams still echoing in his ears.

It got to him. It really did. And that was the most frustrating thing of all. As the son of Satan, was he supposed to be capable of having these sorts of feelings?

It was stupid, really, and made no sense. There was no reason that he should still be carrying this weight around, these stupid, dumb, useless feelings…

The worst part, though, was that Damien was very much aware of why it did make sense for him to be feeling this way, even eight years later. He just didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, because frankly, the real reason behind why he continued to be plagued by what he’d done to Pip was pretty freaking pathetic. 

In the seventeen years that Damien had been alive, he could count on one hand the number of times that someone had extended their friendship to him. In fact, he didn’t need more than one fucking finger to count the number of times—a pathetic revelation in and of itself. 

It was…guilt. Disgustingly enough. 

That was the feeling which plagued him the most. And it wasn’t only guilt towards his own actions at that time, for what he had done to Pip. That was part of it, yes, but as well was the realization of what he had given up, everything that he had missed out on by throwing away the only attempt at friendship that he had ever been given. 

Thinking back on it, after some long retrospection, Damien couldn’t help but wonder whether his inability to forge or maintain any sort of a friendship or relationship could be tied back to that missed opportunity.

Perhaps, or perhaps not. Damien wasn’t too sure and he didn’t care to obsess over it either. Honestly, the only reason he was in his current situation was because he’d naively thought that all he’d have to do to rid himself of these stupid guilty feelings would be to go to the mortal realm and see for himself that everything was fine, as far as Pip was concerned. Surely, things would be better for the British boy now that he was older, right? No more dumb elementary teasing. Pip was such a friendly kid that Damien couldn’t imagine him growing up and not having any friends. To him, it only made sense that once most of the kids Pip had grown up with had also grown up and matured, that some would come around to the other boy and he’d be having the time of his life, getting caught up in all the dumb things that normal teenagers usually did. 

If he could see that for himself, maybe then he could return home feeling a little lighter and he could forget all about the guilty feelings, the loss of something he didn’t quite understand himself, and most of all, Pip. 

That was all that he’d wanted.

Too bad nothing ever worked out the way that Damien wanted… 

Because this fantasy that Damien had imagined for Pip was so far removed from the truth of what his life was actually like. 

In plain and simple terms—Pip’s life kind of sucked. 

On the surface of things, Pip’s life may not have seemed that bad. He maintained average grades in school, he was fortunate enough to have been taken in by a family that could provide his basic needs rather than left to fend for himself in a group home, he worked a part-time job at a small bookstore that he seemed to enjoy, and he bore little responsibilities in general. From a random outsider’s perspective, his life wasn’t bad at all. But Damien had a much different perspective. One more unique than most, because he harbored the ability to see into any and every part of Pip’s life, from the broader picture to the most intimate moments when Pip was left by himself. 

Damien saw everything. He witnessed all of the teasing and the mocking from other classmates, and how in those moments Pip would put a smile on his face, pretend like their harsh words didn’t bother him, sometimes would even go so far as to lean into the jokes. But the moment that he was alone, even if it was only for the briefest of seconds, the smile on his face always slipped away. Sometimes he would look more sad or disappointed than angry, while other times Damien could hear him curse under his breath, would see how tightly he balled his fists at his sides. And occasionally, Pip would seem indifferent, as if he was too tired to be upset, or maybe he just didn’t have the time to deal with any of it. 

He’d also witnessed the physical bullying on more than one occasion. It was always the same group of boys who liked to target Pip. Damien didn’t recognize any of them from their elementary school days, but this was a larger school and many years had passed since then, so that wasn’t surprising. He didn’t need to know anything about them, though, to know that they were all huge immature pieces of shit. They bothered him the most, and after a while, Damien decided it was about time that he stepped in and did something about them. 

Not because he gave a shit about Pip, but because they were pissing him off and more so because he was sick of seeing their ugly mugs popping up everywhere that Pip went. 

So, he may have paid each of them a late night visit without any sort of disguise, allowing himself to comfortably relax into his true form (something he rarely did in the mortal realm), and left each of them with a few threatening remarks that, thus far, seemed to have done the trick. He had yet to notice a single one of Pip’s usual bullies approach the Brit ever since. 

And that should have been the end of it for Damien. Why else would he bother sticking around? The bullies were taken care of, at least that part of Pip’s life would become easier and he could move on to focusing on better things. 

Strangely enough, though, the absence of Pip’s bullies over time began to have a negative impact on Pip, something which Damien hadn’t accounted for. The poor boy was overly paranoid now, constantly watching over his shoulder as if he was expecting the worst to come. Which was exactly what was going on, Damien had quickly discovered one day upon deciding to take a peek into Pip’s mind during one of his walks home from school. His head was filled with racing thoughts, many concerning the strangeness surrounding the sudden peace and quiet he had been granted. Pip eventually convinced himself that his bullies must have been planning something big and that was why they’d backed off of him. 

A fair deduction to make, but not even close to the truth. Though, Damien supposed that Pip would have no way of knowing the real truth, and he would most likely never know. Damien didn’t exactly plan on walking up to Pip and reintroducing himself after all of these years. No, at some point he would have to return back home for good, he’d spent long enough going back and forth between South Park and the seventh layer of Hell. 

There was just something that kept him from making that final decision to leave and not look back. Damien couldn’t place his finger on what it was exactly. The easiest excuse he could give was that he would rather be here silently following Pip around to cure his boredom than to be at home drowning in his studies and other duties that his father always liked to shirk onto him. However, in the back of his mind, Damien knew that that reason alone wasn’t the sole thing keeping him here. 

It wasn’t only boredom and it wasn’t only guilt. He told himself it was curiosity—a weirdly continuous desire to see more of Pip’s life—that was what he’d convinced himself for weeks. But curiosity only explained so much.

Part of it was also curiosity, yes, Damien couldn’t deny that, part of it was also entertainment. For whatever reason, Pip was a good source for that. But, eventually, Damien found himself in very odd and strange situations that he could not explain away using any of his previous excuses. 

Like one of the nights that he had followed Pip home from the bookstore. He had kept himself hidden all this time, but one night when Pip was working all by himself Damien had been compelled to do a little something to indicate his presence. He’d started by knocking a bible off the shelf and when he knew he had Pip a little spooked, maybe just slightly suspicious of something being off, he let down his guard a little more. Going so far as to even allow Pip to see him in the flesh, albeit from afar, and he’d made certain that Pip couldn’t see his face. 

In the end, it worked out because Pip chalked all of those events up to a lack of sleep or something stupid, so he was still pretty much none the wiser to Damien’s presence. Still…that was taking things a little bit too far, and Damien very well knew that. 

Why had he gone so far as to start to reveal his presence? Especially knowing that nothing good would come of it? Whatever the reasoning was, Damien suspected that it was also tied into the reason for why he couldn’t just let this all go. Why he was spending so much time just…lingering. 

That was exactly what he was doing, too. He caught himself doing it all the fucking time. He lingered too long outside Pip’s house at night, usually across the street, waiting for his bedroom light to turn off. Then he’d sometimes linger outside his window in the dead of night when he was certain that Pip was fast asleep whenever he sensed any kind of negative aura emanating from the other boy. Nightmares. It was always nightmares that brought about a fitful, restless sleep, Damien had noticed. 

He lingered around Pip’s job and even would lurk around Pip’s school some mornings to ensure that Pip hadn’t been cornered before the first bell rang. Every single time Damien caught himself in one of these moments, he told himself that this would be the last time. 

It was never the last time. 

Enough repeated cycles of this eventually brought Damien to a new realization.

The legitimate truth of it all, the real reason for all of this time spent following Pip around was this—Pip wasn’t just some loose end he needed to tie up to alleviate his feelings of guilt. He wasn’t just a mistake Damien had made in childhood that he needed to correct. Somewhere along the way, the boy whom Damien had once hurt had become something more than a guilty conscience, something more than pure entertainment, or penance. Pip had started to become real to him again—not just a memory, not just a horrible mistake—but a real person. A very genuine, yet extremely damaged, person.

And that realization somewhat scared Damien. It also very much annoyed him. 

Because he knew where this was headed, he knew what came next if he let this continue. He would fuck up, again. Somehow, someway, he would ruin everything for Pip all over again, Damien just knew it. He was good for that. At his core he was a being of destruction, he wasn’t meant to be going around performing good deeds, and the very last thing he was supposed to be doing was meddling with someone else’s life in an attempt to make things better for him. 

That wasn’t how things were supposed to be, and yet, here he still was defying every single logical thing that he told himself. Why? 

Because he wanted something that he couldn’t have. 

And that was truly the root of the problem. He couldn’t want anything. That was the unspoken rule of his existence. He wasn’t allowed to want anything short of what he was designed to accomplish. 

…But Damien did want something.

At first, he didn’t know what exactly it was that he wanted, he just knew that he felt a longing for…something. Then, as some time passed, the more he watched Pip, the more it became apparent. There were times when he experienced a strange sensation deep inside, something like a childlike ache in his chest, when he’d remembered the way Pip had smiled at him all those years ago. A smile that had asked for nothing. That had offered friendship without strings, even when everyone else had looked at Damien like a disease. Even when Damien had made it painfully clear from the very beginning that he was not to be trusted.

And yet, Pip had trusted him anyway. Had sat beside him. Had called him a friend.

So…maybe what it was that Damien wanted was to go back. Back in the sense that he could somehow undo that moment. To go back and stop his younger self from betraying the one and only person who had ever offered him a piece of something real. So that maybe in this moment things could be much different for the both of them.

Or maybe what he wanted now was something worse than that.

Such as…a second chance.

Damien cringed even thinking such a thing. He was absolutely the very last person in Pip’s life who deserved a second chance from him. Damien knew that, but he still struggled with the reality of things because all he really wanted was to be seen by him again. To have Pip look at him now, not with horror or fear, but with that same simple kindness he had once extended to Damien all those years ago. And maybe, just maybe, to find out if there could be some sort of a connection there. Something that may have been lying dormant all this time, waiting for just the right moment for everything to fall back into place again.

There was no way. It would never happen and Damien had no choice but to accept that, unfortunately. Because even if it could happen and he somehow managed not to ruin everything again, even if Pip, by some miracle, forgave him, it would never change what Damien was. It wouldn’t change the fact that he was literally damnation incarnate. A future ruler of Hell. And no amount of guilt, dreams, or longing could change that.

Still, he didn’t stop watching Pip.

He couldn’t.

And that was how he found himself where he was now—perched in a tree outside Pip’s windowsill—watching him again.

Pip was sitting cross-legged on his bed reading something Damien couldn’t quite make out from this angle. The room was dark with the exception of a warm bedside lamp illuminating the soft complexion of Pip’s concentrated face. He seemed a little too concentrated, tense, not like he was enjoying whatever it was that he was reading.

He stayed like that for another minute or so before his shoulders sagged and he dropped the book he had been holding into his lap. Pip closed his eyes and exhaled a deep sigh. When he opened them once more, there was a distinct shift in his expression.

He looked very tired.

Not in the way mortals usually did, like after a long day at work or due to a lack of sleep. No, this was deeper than that. Damien could feel it when he concentrated hard enough.

Without thinking, Damien reached out with just a sliver of his power. Just a nudge, a little push that would help steady Pip’s heartbeat and slow down any racing thoughts. Something to ease any sort of restlessness, inside or out. This wasn’t the first time Damien had done something like this, he’d done it a few times here and there when he could sense that the other boy could use a little bit of uplifting energy.

It was nothing major, a small warmth barely noticeable even by Pip, but it worked almost immediately.

The tension gradually eased from Pip’s body as he leaned back against his headboard. He blinked slowly, then lifted one hand to rub at his eyes before he directed his gaze upwards toward the ceiling. Damien was curious to know what it was Pip was thinking, but he refrained from eavesdropping into his mind. He should be leaving to go back home soon anyway.

Pip turned his head back down so that he was looking straight ahead of him, directly at the very window that Damien was perched on the other side of. For a split-second, Damien grew still, forgetting that there was no possible way that Pip could see him or know that he was there. Pip’s eyes stayed locked onto the glass for a long second, and for that very short moment in time, it almost felt as if they were looking right at each other. Only for a second or two before Pip blinked and diverted his attention back to the book he had been reading. Damien exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

This was stupid. Not to mention a complete waste of his time. Yet, he didn’t move.

He stayed there for several more minutes watching the boy through the window reading his book silently, looking much more put at ease.

It wasn’t until Pip finally tucked his book away for good and prepared to go to sleep that Damien figured it was about time that he left his perch for the night. But something tugged at him, something which kept him rooted to that spot for just a little while longer, even once his sensitive ears picked up the sound of Pip's even breathing. He could see him better now through the dark, mostly just a lump of blanket curled up in bed fast asleep. Only a small portion of his face was visible through the moonlight that cascaded into the room through the window.

Damien sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shook his head at himself, suddenly feeling pretty ridiculous in his current position.

“What the hell am I doing?” 

Nothing answered him, of course. Not like he expected anyone or anything to, but…maybe if he asked himself that question out loud he could come up with a suitable enough answer that would solve this problem. That would guarantee this to be the last night that he would sneak out of Hell to perch on a freezing tree branch just for a glimpse of his old friend.

A few seconds later, he dropped from the tree without making a sound, landing softly in the damp grass below. A cold breeze brushed past him as if warning him to leave, to finally let this go, to return to his realm and never look back again.

He knew that would be the right thing to do, the best course of action at this point. What was he to gain from coming back here tomorrow night? Or the night after that?

Nothing. Not a single goddamn thing.

And yet, here in this spot was exactly where Damien would find himself tomorrow night, and the night after that, and the night after that…

He needed to let it go, he needed to let Pip go. For good. Then he could get back to his normal duties.

Alas, he’d somehow managed to land himself into a brand new Hell—one that unfortunately wasn’t so easy for him to escape from.

Chapter Text

Pip

Weekends for Pip were always a nice reprieve. Although, he’d argue that Fridays were probably the hardest day to get through. While most of his peers were excited on Fridays, eager to be done with school for a few days, Pip usually spent the day dragging his feet. Five days in a row of waking up at five in the morning and most of those days also spent working until ten o’clock at night left him feeling pretty dang exhausted by the end of the week. He always looked forward to Saturdays more, knowing that even if he had to work, he had the luxury of sleeping in for a few extra hours to get caught up on all the sleep he’d missed throughout the week. 

Just one more evening shift, then he could go home, have a nice dinner, and sleep in tomorrow. He just had to get through one more night. 

Slumped over the desk, Pip sighed into his notebook. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could spend in the library reviewing his calculus notes before he was bound to go insane. It was tempting to put it off until tomorrow or Sunday, but if he did that he knew he’d regret spending his little free time on the weekends studying when he could be relaxing instead. 

It was just hard to concentrate on this kind of stuff when he was tired and wasn’t that great at it to begin with. He tried. He really did try to understand as much as he could and he always listened attentively in class, but a lot of it went right over his head. Unfortunately, he’d found it difficult to reach out for help, mostly because no one wanted to tutor him. He’d gone so far as to offer to pay and even that hadn’t been enough. He assumed it was more so out of fear than anything else. Most people didn’t want to be seen with or around him for fear that they too would be subjected to the relentless bullying that Pip could never seem to escape. 

He supposed that made sense, and honestly, Pip couldn’t really blame them either. He would feel awfully bad if someone else got hurt just because they had spent time trying to tutor him. So long as he could pass the class with at least a C, that was all that he cared about, he just needed to understand enough of the content to avoid a failing grade. 

But, right now, he could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, and the more he stared at the pages in his textbook, the more all the letters and numbers began to blur together. And on top of that, his stomach had also decided that now was the time to start demanding for food. A low growl pierced the silence, coaxing Pip to lift his head and take a quick glance at his watch.

Three fifty-eight.

He still had about an hour and a half before his shift started at the bookstore.

Typically, he would either make a quick stop at home to eat something beforehand or if he could buy food from a cheap fast food place or one of the local diners if he could swing a little more cash. He’d usually do that about half an hour or so before he was expected to start work, so leaving now would be a bit too early, but he was hungry and maybe if he got a little something in his stomach, it would also help to ease his headache. There was a possibility he would be able to concentrate on his homework better as well, and he would still have some time to come back to it. 

Pip took his time packing up his things and slipping on his coat. He wasn’t too eager to be reunited with the freezing temperature outside. Even though it was way past the time for much of anyone to still be hanging around school this late, Pip still couldn’t help but to take a few peeks over his shoulder as he walked through and out of the building until he was a far enough distance away. Once he was fully off school property, he felt like he could mostly relax. 

Pip’s favorite spot to eat was a little diner in the heart of South Park, located along main street. It had been there for quite some time. He wasn’t exactly sure how old it was, but judging by how some of the long-term South Park locals talked, it had been many, many decades. Which meant that it wasn’t the fanciest place around. In fact, not much of the inside screamed modern day whatsoever, but Pip never minded that. He found it rather charming in its own oldschool dilapidated way…

Honestly, the only thing that mattered to him was that the food tasted great and that he felt welcomed. Perhaps that was why he was drawn to the little establishment so often. It was one of very few places in this small town where Pip never felt judged or ridiculed and rarely was he ever bothered by anyone either. All in all, it was pretty much the perfect place for him to unwind after school for a bit before going in for his evening shift at the bookstore. 

With a little more pep in his step, Pip hurried along the streets of South Park, now growing a tad more excited to reach the diner as he thought about the scrumptious roasted turkey and mashed potatoes which awaited him. 

Once he made it inside the diner, Pip was pleased to find that his favorite table was unoccupied. He always picked a spot near the window, even during the colder months as he enjoyed people-watching while he ate his dinner. This specific spot, however, was tucked into a back corner against the window, away from most of the more crowded areas, which Pip preferred. 

“Hey there, sweetheart. What can I get’cha? You havin’ the usual or feelin’ adventurous tonight?”

The blond boy instantly perked at the sound of that familiar southern drawl and turned a polite smile up to greet the redheaded woman now standing beside his table with her notepad in hand. 

“‘Ello, Mrs. McCormick. The usual is fine, with a cup of tea, please, if it’s not too much trouble. How are you today?”

Carol huffed a small laugh through her nose, scribbling something on the pad. “Well, hell, I guess I ain’t got much to complain about for once. Got some good news this week, actually. My Kenny got an acceptance letter to one of them big fancy pants schools. Oh, which one of ‘em was it again?” She paused, thinking hard for a second before she snapped her fingers and exclaimed, “Denver! I believe it was. Can you believe that?”

“Denver as in the University of Denver?” asked Pip, to clarify. 

“Yeah, that’s the one. Didn’t even know he applied ‘til the letter came in the mail this week. Damn boy don’t tell me nothin’, but if there’s any one of my kids I know I ain’t gotta worry ‘bout, it’s Kenny. That boy’s gonna grow up to make somethin’ of himself, unlike that drunk deadbeat father of his.” Her expression turned sour for a moment before that same grin from before returned to her face. “Least now I can go to my grave knowin’ I did somethin’ right. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Karen’ll follow in her big brother’s footsteps here in a few years. Now, wouldn’t that be somethin’?”

Pip couldn’t say that he was surprised to learn this information, he knew that Kenny did pretty well in school. Still, he couldn’t help but to feel a sliver of dread settle in the pit of his stomach at the realization that he was pretty behind. He was supposed to be working hard on his grades, ensuring that he got them up high enough to get into a decent school post high school. After all, he wasn’t too certain where he would stand when that time came. Would he be permitted to continue living with his foster parents or would they prefer he move out? He had yet to have that conversation with them. Also, would he want to stay even if they allowed him to? Pip wasn’t too sure. Part of him ached to be a part of a close knit family, but being that he had been bounced around so much from various foster homes, Pip found it difficult to form close bonds to people like that. Sometimes he felt like a stranger in his own home, and it was during those times when he thought it might be best for him to move on, to find a place of his own somewhere. 

But to do that, he had to stay on top of things. He had to make sure he passed all of his classes and graduated, and not only that, but he had to get accepted into a university. Cost wasn’t an issue, his higher education was guaranteed to be paid for by the state, the biggest hurdle for Pip was a combination of his mediocre grades and his indecisiveness about what he actually wanted to pursue in college. He had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do career-wise and that uncertainty had led to procrastination, which now left him in this position. He had no idea what the deadlines were for applying, but they had to be coming up soon, if not already have passed. 

That realization alone had Pip feeling even more hesitant to check. Ignoring it seemed like a much easier solution for the time being. 

“That’s really great,” Pip replied, pushing those previous thoughts to the back of his mind for now. “You must be very proud of such a big accomplishment.”

Carol leaned her hip against the edge of the table, her grin softening. “I am. I bawled like a damn baby when I read that letter. Poor Kenny didn’t know what to do with me.” She straightened up, tucking her pen and notepad into her apron. “Anyway, ‘nough of me ramblin’, I’ll go get your order put in, sweetheart. Be back in a bit with your tea.”

Pip gave a small nod of thanks and watched her walk away. Even when he couldn’t see her anymore, he could still hear as she called out his order toward the kitchen in that strong, no-nonsense voice of hers. He really wouldn’t have minded if she’d wanted to keep talking to him a little longer, Pip actually enjoyed talking with Mrs. McCormick. She was one of few who took him seriously and seemed to listen when he talked. At the same time, he recognized that he couldn’t keep her away from doing her job, and his stomach most definitely wouldn’t appreciate him making it wait much longer for something to eat. 

With a soft sigh, the blond leaned back in his seat and turned his head to look out the window. A few bundled-up pedestrians hustled down the street, puffs of breath visible in the cold air. It’d had yet to snow, but Pip suspected it wouldn’t be much longer until a few big fat flakes started trickling down from the overcast clouds high above. 

He busied himself for a few minutes simply watching passersby through the glass until he grew bored and turned his sights within the diner. A few more people had come inside since he’d first sat down. It wasn’t bustling yet, but close to half of the seats were now occupied. Pip spotted Carol’s bright red locks through the kitchen window for the briefest of seconds before she came around carrying a few different drinks with her, one of which happened to be his cup of tea. 

“Here ya go, hon. Food won’t be too much longer,” she said, then hurried off to deliver drinks to another one of her customers. 

The warm mug clutched between his hands was comforting. A few sips of the hot liquid was enough to satisfy his stomach temporarily while he patiently awaited his dinner to come out. He set his mug down on the table and took another glance around the establishment, and as he did so, he was a tad startled to make direct eye contact with another patron sitting a few tables away. 

It was a boy who looked around Pip’s age. Not anyone whom Pip immediately recognized. Short black hair, fair skin tone, clad in pretty much black everything from head to toe. He could swear that there was an unusual glow to his eyes, but from this far away, it could just be a trick of the light, Pip supposed. 

Pip only caught his stare for the briefest of moments before he quickly whipped his head down and reached to pick up his half-filled mug again. Lifting the mug to take a long sip, Pip tried to ignore the strange feeling of being stared at, but the longer it persisted, the more difficult it became to keep his head down. The smallest bit of confidence surged within him, prompting him to lift his head just a tad, enough to glance over in the same direction as where that boy sat. 

Warmth invaded his cheeks upon realizing that he was still being watched by this mysterious person, primarily out of embarrassment. Pip couldn’t understand what about him seemed to fascinate this stranger so much, but one thing was for certain—whoever this boy was, he was rather handsome. So, for such an attractive person to be staring so blatantly at Pip, it made him feel a little uncomfortable and embarrassed. He really hoped that the reason for his staring wasn’t anything bad…

Keeping his head down, he fiddled with the handle of his mug. Perhaps the other boy was staring at him because he thought he looked familiar or bore a resemblance to someone else he knew. That was entirely plausible. But…something felt a little different about his stare. It wasn’t just a casual stare or quick glance. No, it felt more…fixed. Focused. 

Pip dared another glance up. 

He nearly sighed with relief when he saw that the dark boy’s gaze was no longer trained on him. Instead, he was paying more mind to the plate of food sitting before him. Maybe it had just been an innocent stare and Pip was overthinking it. 

Now that he was no longer being pinned down by the other’s intense gaze, Pip could take a few extra seconds to return the favor. Out of curiosity more than anything else. 

There was something strangely familiar about him, Pip thought. He couldn’t place what it was and he definitely didn’t recognize him as anyone he went to school with. No, he would remember someone like that. Someone who looked so out of place. 

So, then where on earth did he recognize him from? Could he perhaps have seen him on the telly or in a magazine? He was attractive enough that Pip wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he had a media presence. 

Pip’s view was suddenly obscured by red and the sound of Mrs. McCormick’s voice as she set down his plate. 

“Need anything else, sweetheart?” 

Pip blinked up at her, briefly caught off guard. “Oh, no, thank you. This is perfect.”

“Well, you just holler if you change your mind. I’ll come back ‘round and check up on ya in a bit.”

Pip nodded and offered her a small appreciative smile. “I will. Thanks so much.”

Although he was eager to dig into the food, Pip paused for a second after she’d left to resume his previous task. Except, when he looked back over at that particular table, he found himself feeling a little disappointed. 

The boy was gone. 

All that remained was a ceramic white mug and an empty plate, along with a couple of crumpled dollar bills lying in the middle of the table. He turned his head to peer out the window hoping that he might catch a small glance of mystery boy. Unfortunately, it seemed he had managed to slip away too quickly.

The disappointment that settled over him was strange, Pip thought. There was no reason to feel that way about someone he didn’t even know. What else had he expected to happen? That mystery boy was interested in him in some way and would have come over to talk to him?

Yeah, right. Fat chance of that ever happening. As if there was anything remotely interesting about Pip enough to entice someone to want to approach him in any way that wasn’t negative. Maybe he should feel thankful that all he’d done was stare at him, because there were definitely much, much worse things he could have done to embarrass Pip had that been his objective.

Well, a positive thing was that he could now enjoy his dinner in peace, which was exactly what Pip did. That whole interaction hadn’t meant anything and he was better off forgetting about it. Mrs. McCormick came by about fifteen minutes later, presumably to see if he needed anything, so Pip was a tad confused when she placed down another plate before him, this one with a single slice of what appeared to be raspberry cheesecake sitting on top. 

“Oh, I didn’t order this—” Pip began.

Carol cut him off with a quick wave of her hand.

“I know ya didn’t, hon. Some other boy sent it over before he left. Said it was for the blond in the corner. Thought he might be a friend of yours.”

Pip blinked down at the cheesecake, lips parting slightly as he tried to process that information. Could it have been the boy that had noticed him before? 

“A…friend of mine?” he echoed, looking back up at Carol with raised brows.

She gave a small shrug. “What with the way he was starin’ at you, I thought maybe y’all knew each other.”

Wait…so it was the mystery boy? For some reason, Pip’s brain was having a difficult time accepting this to be true. He didn’t understand why someone he didn’t know would buy him a dessert out of the blue. It truly made no sense. 

As Carol’s words sank in, Pip’s face flushed. He tried to hide it behind his teacup as he gave a nervous laugh. “I—uh, no. I don’t think we’ve met, actually… Um, he didn’t happen to say who he was, did he?”

She shook her head. “I’m ‘fraid not. Thinkin’ ‘bout it, though, I don’t reckon I ever seen him ‘round here before." Carol raised an eyebrow and emitted what sounded like an amused scoff. She had a bit of a playful look in her eyes as she grinned at him and said, “Huh. Maybe he just thought you looked like you needed a little sweetenin’ up.”

She gave him a wink before turning to leave again, off to check on another table. Pip stared after her for a second, then down at the cheesecake, feeling like he was caught in some bizarre daydream.

Who in the world was that boy?

The thought that someone had noticed him and had taken the time to do such a kind gesture when he didn’t even know Pip left him at a bit of a loss. There was no real justification that Pip could think of which made any sense to him and surely it wasn’t some sort of prank…right? There was no possible way that the cheesecake could be tainted. He didn’t think so anyway…

Maybe it was horrible to think such a thing right off the bat, but it was easier for Pip to assume the worst than to imagine someone might do something thoughtful without expecting anything in return. But the cheesecake looked untouched and it was raspberry too. His favorite. Something which not too many people would know. Perhaps it had just been a lucky guess? Yeah, there was absolutely no way that a stranger would know that sort of information about Pip. 

Hm…

With a tentative hand, Pip picked up his fork and cut a small bite. He inspected it closely, looking for anything strange, but it looked like a normal piece of cheesecake. 

And that was because it was, he found after chewing that first bite. It really was just a regular raspberry flavored cheesecake. A quite tasty one at that, he would add.

Perhaps there didn’t have to be a motive behind it, maybe the boy from before had just wanted to do something nice for someone. Although it was very unexpected, Pip couldn’t say that it was that strange. People did stuff like that on occasion and this time he happened to get lucky enough to be on the receiving end.

Pip finished off the delicious cheesecake with just a few minutes to spare until he needed to head out to ensure he made it into work on time. Tonight was another solo night for him at the bookstore. At least once a week he ended up doing a closing shift alone due to short staffing, but he never really minded it that much. Friday nights, however, could be tough to get through if they became extra busy. 

The store was mostly empty when he took over, so Pip decided that could be a good time to work on what remained of his calculus homework. He tried to refocus on his homework in between shelving returns and manning the register, but his thoughts kept drifting elsewhere. Namely to the mystery boy. More than once Pip found himself getting distracted by an image of his face, the way that he had stared so intensely at him, as if he was trying to see through Pip more so than taking in his actual appearance. Pip tried to shake off those thoughts as they weren’t doing him any good, but the only real distraction he got from them was the occasional customer coming up to purchase a book.

He had pretty much given up on his calculus work, but left his notebook open just in case he had the sudden impulse to try tackling it again. Instead, he poured his attention into the store and the customers, taking the extra time to straighten shelves, offer various recommendations, and curate a small book display near the front. He killed at least an hour of his time between doing all of those things and assisting customers at the register. 

The clock struck nine and following it was the beeping of his watch alerting Pip to closing time. 

Not a bad shift, all in all, Pip thought as he turned the door sign from open to closed. It hadn’t been crazy busy and the hours hadn’t crept by either. And now he had the last hour all to himself to finish out his usual closing duties. 

About half past nine, Pip wandered back around to the register to count the cash drawer, and when that was done he moved to put away his notebook and unfinished homework.

Or what should have been his unfinished homework.

The British boy paused for a second, blinked, then rubbed his eyes, before taking a look back down at his worksheet. 

Okay. So, no, what he was seeing really was there. 

The once-empty questions that had stumped him earlier were now completely filled in. Every problem had been answered meticulously, the solution written out clearly with concise steps and elegant penmanship that wasn’t his.

What on earth was going on here?

Now, technically, it was possible that someone could have completed his homework, but…it didn’t make any sense. Honestly, who would do such a thing? Who would actually care enough to do something like that? Why would anyone want to? There were a lot of strange things that happened in Pip’s life that he could eventually come up with an explanation for which did make sense. This one, however, made so little sense to him that rather than feeling creeped out by it, he was more so completely flabbergasted.  

“I…didn’t do this,” Pip spoke aloud, at a loss for anything else to think or say in response. “What—I…don’t understand. How on earth could this be possible?”

While the situations were vastly different, the strangeness of it all coupled with other strange occurrences happening in this very setting, made Pip wonder—could there be something going on here? Something paranormal perhaps? 

Pip couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at the very thought. What an absurd notion. If it made no sense that a real life person finished his calculus homework, it made even less sense that a ghost would do it. 

“What nonsense, Philip. The more likely scenario would be that you’ve gone completely and utterly mad.” 

He didn’t necessarily feel like he was losing his mind, but maybe he wouldn’t actually know if he was, Pip thought. But maybe he’d at least have a small inkling, right…? Or maybe this was the inkling. 

Either he was slowly going mad or something very strange was afoot here… 

The soft chime of the front door’s bell pulled Pip from his thoughts. He startled, nearly dropping the notebook upon realizing that no one was there. No one could be there. The store was locked. The sign read that it was CLOSED in big bold letters. So, why would the bell chime? It had never done that before on its own accord and he didn’t think it was possible for it to be faulty.

For a moment he just stood there staring at the closed door before he decided to take a cautious step from around the counter. He peered down a few aisles, an uncomfortable churning developing in the pit of his stomach. The store was eerily silent and dead empty. He stood listening for another minute or so before another noise behind him caused Pip to suddenly whip around. He watched with wide eyes as his pencil rolled across the front desk until it went over the edge and hit the ground, continuing to roll right up until it collided with the toe of Pip’s shoe. 

He stared at the pencil, heart thudding wildly in his chest, and swallowed nervously. Okay, so, a pencil rolling off the desk wasn’t that weird, but in this specific case, it was a pretty strange coincidence which left Pip with an even more uneasy feeling deep inside. 

It took him a moment to gather the courage to even reach down and pick the damn thing up, as if he was afraid that it would turn sentient and try to attack him or something. 

“I don’t know what’s going on here and maybe it is just a figment of my imagination, but if it’s not, I am most certainly not sticking around any longer to find out,” Pip muttered to himself. He tossed the pencil back into his satchel, then reached for his notebook once more, but just as his fingertips brushed the top page, he noticed there was something different. Something that hadn’t been there just minutes before. 

You're not as alone as you think.

Pip stared at the note. 

It was written in the same exact handwriting as the letters and numbers written on his homework sheet. 

He had no idea what to think reading those words and it took a minute or two before it clicked in his brain the connection of these words suddenly showing up in his notebook along with the pencil rolling off the desk…

It was a motherfucking ghost. 

It had to be—or worse, a demon. 

Either way, something was here, something that was not supposed to be here and it was messing with him. And honestly, after a very long week of sleepless nights, endless homework, tests, and very little free time, Pip did not have the mental energy to deal with this right now. 

He did not and he would not. Unless the ghost decided to not let him leave the store, then that was another problem, but if he walked out that door right now and could go home and not worry about being followed by whatever the hell it was he was dealing with, then that was exactly what Pip was going to do. 

The Brit snapped his notebook shut and shoved it into his satchel with far more force than was necessary. He grabbed his jacket from the hook behind the counter, muttering to himself the entire time as he quickly marched toward the front doors.

“Nope. No thank you. Not tonight. I have had enough bizarre nonsense for one week.”

Every hair on his arms was standing up, and he couldn’t shake the creeping sensation that someone—or something—was watching him the entire time that he fiddled with the keys, unlocking and re-locking the door from the outside. Pip didn’t dare glance back up through the front of the shop. If he was going to be haunted or possessed or dragged into another plane of existence, it could wait until after he’d had a proper night’s sleep.

Despite his outwardly calm appearance, on the inside, Pip was pumped full of adrenaline and he used that to his advantage in order to make it home faster. Picking up his feet, he broke into a jog the rest of the way home. Thankfully this time he didn’t have any other strange encounters along the way.

Pip made quick work of getting ready for bed, opting for a shower rather than a bath, and choosing to ignore any other homework assignments that were due on Monday. He could focus on those over the next two days once he’d gotten sufficient sleep.

He sighed quietly as he turned over in bed, clutching his blanket close for any ounce of extra warmth he could get. Even with the heat on, the nights could get pretty chilly in the winter. Closing his eyes, he blocked any other thoughts from his mind and especially didn’t think about any of the weird situations he’d found himself in today. That was the very last thing he wanted to think about while trying to fall asleep.

A long stretch of silence passed. Then, from across the room, came a soft thump.

Pip’s eyes snapped open, searching in the direction from which the noise had come. They landed on a small area of the ground beside his desk. The spot just below his desk chair where his satchel usually would hang. Instead, it was now lying on the floor. 

Not only that, but his notebook was lying beside it. 

Completely wide open. 

Pip had one of two options here. A) he got up to inspect said notebook to see if there was anything new written in there or B) he completely ignored it, closed his eyes, and once again attempted to go to sleep. 

Something in the back of Pip’s mind suggested that ignoring it wasn’t going to make the problem go away, though, and if it did say something new then he was a tad curious to know what it would say. It could be anything. It could be something dumb and irrelevant or it could be a deadly warning. What if he didn’t look at the notebook and then something horrific happened to him in his sleep? 

Ignoring it was easier, but not ignoring it was probably the smarter move. 

Reluctantly, Pip sighed, and threw off his blanket. 

In one fluid motion he got up, snatched up the notebook, and turned on his bedside lamp. Sitting back down on the edge of his mattress, Pip held up the notebook.

At the very bottom of the page, on the very last line just a few spaces below the previous written text was the same exact handwriting. 

You saw me. Didn’t you?

Pip let out a quiet, exhausted groan and, after tossing the notebook, flopped back onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Oh, bloody hell.”

Chapter Text

Damien

He knew he should leave. 

He should have left way before now, before he’d gotten so bold as to show himself to Pip (whether the other teen realized who he was or not), and way before he’d allowed himself to give into the urge to communicate with him. 

Yet…here he was doing just that, breaking pretty much every single rule he’d established for himself since the beginning of this whole charade. For what reason? Well, because he was stupid and too curious for his own good, and mostly because he had a zero ounce of self control. Damien was pretty certain that he had done dumber things before, so perhaps this wasn’t really that bad by comparison…

Anyway, now he was in completely new territory. To start, rather than spending the night perched out on the tree branch watching Pip through his bedroom window, he was seated on the floor inside of Pip’s bedroom. The British boy couldn’t see him, of course, but he was well aware of Damien’s presence. And, as he’d mentioned previously, he was communicating with him. Via Pip’s calculus notebook, but hey, it was still a form of communication. 

Once Pip had gotten over the fact that there was something supernatural lurking around him, rather than being completely terrified of it, he seemed more curious than anything because he was full of questions. Some which Damien could answer while others he preferred to keep secret, such as the one that Pip had just asked. 

“Since you already know mine, could you tell me your name?” 

Damien had considered it, for all but a split second, before he regained his bearings and put the pencil to paper to respond.

Can’t say.

That more or less garnered the response that Damien had expected from him, which was slight disappointment. 

“Oh. Very well. Then, could I ask what you are? Um, are you a ghost? Or…something else?”

Hand poised above the paper, Damien hesitated for a moment. He decided to answer truthfully but without being too specific. His lips quirked up into a little smirk as he scribbled down his answer. 

Something else.

Pip’s brows lifted and he peered up. As he did so, Damien caught his gaze for a few seconds, almost as if they were both looking right at each other, even though it was impossible for Pip to know exactly where Damien was sitting. 

“So you can’t tell me that information either?”

I could, Damien replied, but I’m not sure you would like the answer. What do you suspect I am?

“Hm…” Pip paused, looking like he was in thought for a few seconds. “Well, I’d say based off your answer that you’re not a ghost, but…I’m still not entirely certain what other entity you could be. Surely not a demon. I couldn’t imagine that a demon would bother much with me.”

What makes you think that? Maybe I am and I want to possess your body.

Pip chuckled lightly at that. “If that were the case, then why haven’t you already?” he countered.

Maybe I have but you don’t remember.

”While that may be plausible, it still doesn’t make much sense to me. I also find it hard to believe that to be true if you’re the one behind the mystery regarding my finished calculus homework. Were you the one who finished my calculus homework?”

Damien responded immediately. Yes.

”Why, though?” asked Pip, looking genuinely confused.

You were stressed out about it.

”Uh…alrighty then.” That definitely wasn’t the answer that Pip expected to get, Damien could tell. “Is that something that you knew a lot about in your past life?”

Damien emitted an amused scoff at that question. I’m not dead, he wrote.  

“Oh. Apologies. I just assumed.”

Pip tilted his head slightly, curiosity depending. 

“So, what are you, really? Are you human?”

Damien paused, hand hovering over the page momentarily as he thought about his words. 

Not exactly.

He leaned back slightly where he sat against the side of Pip’s bed and studied the other boy’s contemplative expression. Even though he’d had many opportunities to get this up close to him, he had refrained up until now. It was…nice, actually. Sitting here like this, talking with Pip, despite Pip not knowing his true identity. It almost felt like something he’d needed for a while now but couldn’t seek out.

“Hm, well, I suppose if you don’t want to tell me, that’s alright. So long as you have no intentions of harming me in any way. Although, I do have to admit that I’m still confused about why you’ve chosen to follow me around. Is that something you could tell me more about?”

Damien didn’t answer that question right away. For a long moment he simply stared at the paper in front of him, hand unmoving. Pip asking such a question wasn’t unexpected, he just wasn’t certain that he wanted to answer it truthfully. He could lie, make up some dumb excuse that Pip would more than likely believe and then leave it at that.

But…

Would it matter if he told the truth? Since he wasn’t planning on revealing his identity to Pip anyhow, what did he have to lose by answering his questions honestly? 

Damien’s fingers twitched around the pencil and he lowered it back down to the paper, pressing the graphite against the white page. After a long pause, he wrote:

You looked like you needed someone.

The pencil hovered again before he then went on to add,

I guess I did too.

There was more to the truth that Damien could have said, but he chose to leave it at that for now. He didn’t need to go into all of the details. 

Pip’s gaze stayed on the notebook for a long moment. His expression softened as he sat there, absorbing Damien’s words like they actually meant something to him.

"That's…rather kind of you," he spoke quietly. “Maybe a bit strange to hear since I’m not used to much of anyone caring that much about me, but…I think I can understand what you mean.”

The blond paused and Damien didn’t say anything because it seemed like there may be more that Pip wanted to say. Unfortunately, the other teen never got the opportunity to express his thoughts further beyond that. 

Because at that moment, something suddenly shifted in the air. 

Damien felt it before anything actually happened—a strange yet familiar pull in the pit of his stomach. A static tingle, crawling up his spine and spreading through his limbs.

Fuck.

No. 

Not now.

He dropped the pencil as he jumped to his feet. One quick glance down at Pip showed that he also must have sensed something was wrong by the concerned frown now adoring his face. 

Shadows spawned from the carpeted ground below him, twisting sharply as they swirled up and around his legs. The temperature in the room spiked several degrees in an instant, and the light bulb in Pip’s desk lamp buzzed violently, then popped with a sharp crack.

Pip flinched from his spot on the floor. “What—?”

Damien couldn’t reply to that, he was too distracted by the floor beneath him splitting open into a fiery gash that only he could see. 

A deep voice boomed in his skull.

“THAT’S ENOUGH.”

And just like that, the flames reached up and dragged him down.

***

Damien hit the obsidian floor hard.

He didn’t even have enough time to get up from the ground before that same deep voice echoed from above him. 

“Damien!”

Said boy groaned—less so from the impact, more so because he already had a good idea of what was in store for him here. Pushing himself up from the soot-covered ground, Damien was met with the towering form of his father seated in his blackened throne, a twisted expression of irritation and disappointment evident across his face. A sight that would have left most people shitting their pants in fear, but to Damien? This was a relatively normal situation to be in. He was used to his father’s lectures, so his intimidating stature was lost on him. Damien wasn’t the least bit nervous or scared. 

Honestly, he was really fucking annoyed.

“Seriously, Dad?! What the fuck was that?!”

Satan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed like he’d been dealing with this nonsense since the dawn of creation. Which, in fairness, he had. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I summoned you back here,” he muttered, opening his eyes. Yellow scleras burned harshly into him, pinning Damien with a fatherly sternness solely reserved for him. “You’ve been dicking around in the mortal realm for weeks. Weeks, Damien! And while you’ve been up there playing Edward Cullen with some sad British twink, all of your regularly scheduled duties have gone unchecked! I can’t believe you, leaving the lower rings unsupervised—do you have any idea how many cursed souls have tried to unionize while you were gone?”

“You know every time they try it always fails—”

“Oh, and the Cerberus kennel?” Satan went on, ignoring Damien. He was standing now, his hooves cracking the obsidian beneath them as he started to pace the room. “It smells like wet death. Which, yes, I know is the general vibe down here, but this is somehow worse. You were supposed to keep them exercised, not let them snack on tormented souls like chew toys!”

Damien threw his hands up. “Okay, whatever! It’s not that big of a deal! I don’t know why you couldn’t have just summoned me like normal to come down here if it bothered you so badly! I was in the middle of something important!”

“Because normal never works with you, Damien!”

Satan’s authoritative voice bounced off the walls, shaking the jagged pillars that lined the throne room. Damien, however, remained unbothered. He crossed his arms over his chest, lips pressed into a tight, unimpressed line. 

“How many times have I grounded you? Or taken away your movie collection? Forbid you from visiting the surface? None of it sticks! Every single time I try to discipline you, what do you do? Disobey my orders the very moment I turn my back. You never listen!”

Well, maybe if he was given more freedom to do what he wanted then he wouldn’t spend so much time going behind his father’s back, thought Damien bitterly. Not to mention he was sick and tired of always being forced to do his father’s bidding. He hadn’t asked for any of this, for this level of responsibility, nor did he want it. 

“Have you ever thought about how much I hate it here?!” Damien bit back, leveling his father with a strong glare. “Or the fact that maybe I don’t actually want these dumb responsibilities?! You could put any other high ranking demon in charge of the dumb shit that you make me do and achieve the same fucking result!”

Satan stopped pacing and the silence stretched for a long moment before his father finally said something. 

“I think I know what this is really about. You’ve grown… attached. You’ve always harbored a strong interest in the human race, but now you’ve gone and gotten yourself involved with a mortal.”

“I’m not involved with him, he doesn’t even know who I am!”

“I can’t say that I’m surprised, you are half-human, after all. It’s only natural that you would want to connect with other humans, but you’re going about it totally the wrong way. For starters, that boy is one of the last humans you should be developing feelings for—”

“The fuck?” Damien looked at his father, confused and having no idea what he meant about him having feelings for literally anyone. That was so not the case here. “I don’t have fucking feelings for anyone! And besides that, what the hell makes him so different anyway? He’s completely harmless.”

Turning towards him, Satan appeared almost exhausted by Damien’s ignorance. “He matters because he’s one of His. And I’m not about to get involved in a fucking custody battle over some little twerp that you can’t shake. The best course of action is to leave him be, Damien. Let him live his life and stop meddling into his affairs. Your time is better spent down here, staying devoted to your studies and carrying out the duties I’ve assigned to you.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. He clenched his fists, the familiar surge of frustration boiling beneath his skin. He detested how dismissive his father could be at times, especially when it concerned important matters, or at least matters that were important to him. 

He wasn’t stupid, part of him knew deep down that his father was right to some extent. That he shouldn’t be meddling in Pip’s business, that he should leave him be. But when he thought about doing that, he grew angry for a whole other reason. 

Why shouldn’t he be allowed to meddle a little bit? He wasn’t fucking anything up or doing anything wrong. He wasn’t changing the trajectory of Pip’s fate either, so in the grand scheme of things, his actions really weren’t a problem. 

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Damien reiterated, voice low but heated. “I’m not hurting anyone or disrupting the natural order. I just—” Inhaling slowly, he huffed out an annoyed sigh. “Being stuck here all the damn time sucks. I have no fucking friends, nobody to talk to or do things with, and everyone here pretends like they respect me, but I know they don’t! They ‘respect’ me because they have to and I don’t fucking want that! I just want to do what the fuck I want somewhere that I feel like I’m actually accepted!”

“And you honestly think the human world will accept you?” Satan replied. “That they’ll be more accepting of you than your own kind? Do you really want to test that theory?”

Damien wasn’t sure how to respond to that because he wasn’t entirely certain as to what his father meant. Test that theory? What was he suggesting by that? 

“I don’t know,” he muttered, an irate edge to his tone lingering. “Maybe they wouldn’t.” Thinking back on it, Damien was pretty certain that they wouldn’t, if his previous visit to the surface all those years ago was anything to go by. But back then he hadn’t known any better. He’d known next to nothing about humans or how to fit in with them. This time was different. He understood better how humans worked, how they interacted with each other, and all of their strange social norms. “But…I’d almost rather be there than stuck down here all the damn time where I’m made to follow a bunch of useless dumb orders.”

“You’re letting your mortal half cloud your judgement.”

That statement had Damien growing heated again. He snapped his head up, shooting another glare his father’s way. “I am my mortal half!” Damien snapped. “I’m not a full-blooded demon! You act like that part of me doesn’t matter, like it’s some defect or something! And maybe it is, but there’s nothing I can fucking do about it! You’re the one who decided that I’d be this way, so if that was some sort of mistake, then that’s your problem!”

His father sighed and lifted a hand to rub his temple as he replied, “It wasn’t a mistake, and I know that it’s a part of you, but you have to be strong, Damien. You have to be just as strong as a full-blooded demon, and if your human side is preventing you from achieving that, then that becomes a serious matter that needs to be addressed.”

Damien gritted his teeth. 

“I am strong, stronger than any other demon my age, and you know it.”

”I never said you weren’t, son, but you’re not as strong as you’ll need to be. Far from it, actually.”

Damien was growing tired of arguing about all of this. All he wanted was for his dad to stay out of his business for once and trust that he could handle things on his own. 

His father stared down at him, but he didn’t say anything. Not immediately. It was like he was considering something, thinking deeply about whatever it was going through his head. His expression softened as he took a step toward Damien.

“You’re young. And you may think you know everything, but you’re still too young to fully understand the pressures that come with the power you’ve been given.”

”I’m not a kid."

“No, but you still have a lot to learn.” A pause ensued, and Damien, sensing that his father wasn’t yet finished, refrained from speaking. “This British boy, whatever his name is, he doesn’t know you, and if he did—”

”I didn’t say he did,” Damien swiftly interjected, “and he probably never will—”

”But you want him to,” Satan said knowingly. 

No reply. He had readied another retort, but upon hearing those words, what he was going to say fell short. For whatever reason, he couldn’t deny them. 

Damien silently cursed himself for being so weak in a moment like this. 

“Right. I guess that tells me everything I need to know.”

Damien lifted his head, looking to his father with confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?”

”You won’t listen to me and you said so yourself that you didn’t want to be here.” Damien’s eyes followed his father’s movements, watching him warily as he walked back to his throne. He shrugged and extended his hands out, seeming completely unbothered. “So, fine. Go prove to me that the mortal world will give you everything you think you’re missing here. Go try being normal. See how well that goes for you.”

”Wait…” Damien paused, once more confused. He couldn’t understand why his father was suddenly being so lenient and giving into him. If anything, Damien had expected he’d ground him again and tack on a whole new load of mundane, annoying tasks as punishment. This seemed like the opposite of that. ”You’re going to let me go back? Weren’t you just pissed about me spending so much time there?”

He settled back down in the seat of his large throne, watching Damien silently for a moment. Propping his elbow atop one of the arm rests, Satan casually leaned his cheek into the palm of his hand. 

“Sure, I was, but not anymore. And yeah, whatever. Go and do whatever you want. By all means don’t let me stop you.” He lifted one finger. “I just have one condition.”

Damien looked at him skeptically, not quite trusting what his father had just said. 

“And what’s that exactly?”

Once more, the atmosphere around them shifted, and something inside of Damien did as well. A strange feeling settled within the pit of his stomach, something akin to nervousness—a sense of dread perhaps? The reason for why he felt that way was unknown to him at first, not until his father made his next move. 

Satan snapped his fingers.

It happened so quickly that Damien had no time to process what in the world had just happened to him until it was already over. In one swift moment, Damien felt like his entire being had been ripped straight out of him, and his knees buckled. He collapsed to the floor, hand gripping his chest, as he panted like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He didn’t know what this was, but he had a suspicion. The exact suspicion which his father confirmed just a few seconds thereafter. 

“I’m suspending your powers. Temporarily. You’re free to return to the mortal realm as you wish, but you will do so powerless.”

Damien’s head whipped up in disbelief. “You’re cutting me off?!”

Satan’s expression was unreadable as he looked down at his son. He waved his hand flippantly in a dismissive manner. “Not entirely. I can still bring you back here any time I want, but you’ll no longer have the ability to come back on your own or use any of your powers for the time being. Let’s see how long you can last before you beg me to bring you back.”

“W-Wait—Dad—!”

The floor cracked open beneath him again and Damien scrambled forward in an attempt to resist his father’s power. But with no energy of his own left, he was completely powerless and could do nothing but allow himself to be swallowed up and spit back out.

This time when he hit the floor, he was greeted to a much softer landing.

At first, he didn’t immediately recognize where he had been teleported to. All he could see was a white ceiling and all he knew was that he was surrounded by darkness. Followed quickly by a noise, something akin to a squeak, which alerted him to the presence of another being nearby. 

Albeit a bit disoriented, a few seconds later, Damien managed to roll onto his side and push himself up halfway. He nearly flew backwards out of surprise as he was met with a pair of wide bright blue eyes hovering merely inches from his own face. 

Blue eyes. Long locks of blond spilling around a set of lithe shoulders. A familiar face which had occupied both Damien’s mind and dreams more times than he’d like to admit. The same face that Damien had looked directly into not even an hour prior. He fucking hated that he recognized that face.

Pip blinked. Damien said nothing. Pip tilted his head at a slight angle, brows knitting together as his eyes searched Damien’s face. He leaned in just a wee bit closer, studied him for a couple more seconds. His breath suddenly hitched, a soft gasp escaping his parted lips.

Then…

Just like that, a light bulb went off. 

“...Damien…? Is that really you...?”

Chapter Text

Pip

“...Damien…? Is that really you...?”

The name felt foreign on his tongue, and for a split second, Pip had wondered if it was possible that he could be mistaken. But when he’d paused and leaned in to take a closer look, the name slipped past his lips without hesitation, and Pip knew that he wasn’t wrong. 

Even though eight years had passed since the last time Pip had spoken his name, or had looked at this face, he still remembered. Even though the person whom he was looking at now had grown up, up close like this, the resemblance was uncanny. His hair was a bit longer than he remembered and his face was more matured—a strong, slender jaw and high cheekbones replacing the round soft features that Pip remembered, not an ounce of baby fat left. But his eyes…his eyes were exactly as Pip remembered them. 

A deep, fierce crimson which Pip found to be extremely difficult to tear his own gaze away from. Was it the unusual color that captivated him or was it the emotion conveyed through them that made it hard to look away?

For a moment in time, it felt as if he’d been transported back in time eight years ago when Damien had worn a similar expression on his face. Pip remembered it clear as day—how could he ever forget? 

It occurred shortly after Damien had humiliated him by using him as a stunt piece to gain the attention and acceptance of their peers. After Pip, covered head to toe in soot, had somehow picked himself off the snowy ground. He hadn’t been that hurt. Luckily, whatever trick Damien had conjured up using his powers prevented him from sustaining any sort of life-threatening injuries. The worst part had been falling back down to the ground. Snow couldn’t soften a hard landing like that. 

All of the kids had come trickling out of the party, including Damien, once the festivities had come to an end. Damien spotted him, but he’d never said anything. He’d never apologized or come over to lend a hand. No, he’d just looked at Pip for a long moment with a complicated expression across his face. One that, at the time, Pip hadn’t been able to parse.

Now he fully understood it. 

There was a world of turmoil happening behind those eyes, Pip could tell, but the thing that stood out to him the most was regret. The realization that he had done something he shouldn’t have, a harsh reality check that he had screwed up somehow. In this specific instance, Pip had no idea what the reasoning behind that could be, but it was definitely the same expression. 

Something had gone wrong, and whatever that thing was had to be related to why Damien Thorn, son of Satan, the anti-Christ himself, was sitting on Pip’s bedroom floor in the middle of the night looking at him like he wished he was literally anywhere else in the world. 

Damien had yet to speak a single word, and Pip’s curiosity was too great to ignore, which led him to asking his next question.

“Um…may I ask how you’ve ended up here in my bedroom so late? Or…at all?”

Damien’s lips parted as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. His eyes darted away from Pip’s face, toward the window across the room and then down to the floor. He seemed to have a difficult time looking Pip in the face, and an even more difficult time figuring out how to respond to Pip’s question. 

Nevertheless, Pip patiently waited. He was nothing if not patient. 

Finally, after another minute of awkward silence, Damien sat up a little straighter and softly cleared his throat. It was obvious that he really wanted to keep avoiding meeting Pip’s own gaze, but in the end, Damien forced himself to. 

Pip’s brain halfway expected that same high-pitched tone to come out when Damien spoke, although logically he knew that that would be kind of strange for him to sound exactly as he had before puberty hit. That wasn’t usually how these things worked. As cutesy as it had been at the time, Pip was rather glad to know that Damien’s voice had also matured post puberty.

“…It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he said, voice low and a little strained. Awkward was mostly how he sounded as he continued, “Uh…you weren’t supposed to ever see me.”

That response didn’t actually explain why Damien had suddenly appeared in his bedroom, though. 

Pip opened his mouth to reply, to ask for more clarification, until something occurred to him. He thought back to just an hour prior to the entity that he had been weirdly conversing with, and then he really thought about what Damien had just said, about Pip not seeing him. 

There was no way. No freaking way that Damien had been the one following him around this whole time. Pip didn’t want to believe it, but…how could he believe otherwise? 

As absurd as this whole thing was, that explanation was the only one thus far that actually made sense!

And, come to think of it, Damien did bear a strong resemblance to the boy whom Pip had noticed watching him at the diner earlier…

Okay, so…it was Damien this entire time. Did he not have anything better to do or was there a genuine reason for these actions on his part? Also, Pip still didn’t understand why he’d apparated into his bedroom out of nowhere like that, unless for some reason it had been outside of Damien’s control to do so. 

“Yet…here you are, though, so…care to explain to me why exactly it is that you’re here?”

Damien looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. 

A small movement down below captured Pip’s attention for the briefest of seconds and he darted his gaze down to see that the other boy had twisted his fingers into the material of his pants, clutching it tightly. When he looked upwards again, there was a complex expression on Damien’s face. Pip couldn’t quite tell whether he was frustrated, embarrassed, or on the verge of bolting—maybe it was all three. 

“I thought—” Damien started, but then stopped all of a sudden, looking like he was already regretting whatever it was he had started to say. He sighed—now definitely seeming frustrated—and pointedly glared at the floor. “I really fucked up, okay? I’m here because I was being stupid, a-and I thought I could…keep an eye on you from a distance. Make sure you were okay and shit. That’s all I wanted. And now—” Damien finally lifted his head to look at Pip again, “—because I was neglecting my duties back home, my dad kicked me out of Hell, and sent me back here. I didn’t have any control over where he sent me.”

The blond sat there for a moment quietly trying to understand. There were suddenly so many other questions he wanted to ask, like what did Damien mean by he wanted to keep an eye on him? Why would his father kick him out of Hell for doing something like that? And what did that mean for Damien if he was kicked out? Was he ever allowed to go back?

“So…your… dad kicked you out of Hell because you were—what? Watching over me? That’s why you’re here now? And does that mean that you’re stuck here? You can’t go back?”

“Not forever,” Damien replied, “just until my dad decides I can come back, I guess…” He sighed again and moved to stand up. “…Which could be never,” he muttered as he got to his feet, brushing nonexistent dust off his jeans. “Knowing him, it’ll depend entirely on how miserable I am while I’m here.”

What an odd relationship Damien must have with his father, Pip thought. Straightening up from his crouched position on the floor, Pip took a step backwards to sit on the edge of his mattress. Meanwhile, Damien stood in the middle of his bedroom, shifting his feet, and looking extremely out of place and awkward. 

Pip could practically feel the awkward tension in the air hanging in between them, and he didn’t much care for it. Sure, he and Damien didn’t have the best history, but it had also been eight years. Pip suspected that Damien wasn’t that same kid he had known back then. A lot could change in eight years, he was well aware of that. If Damien had been the exact same as Pip once remembered him, then he probably would have thrown a huge tantrum already. All things considered…he was handling this entire situation pretty well. 

“Uhm…” Damien wasn’t looking at him again, he was looking toward Pip’s bedroom door, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck in an uncertain manner. “I guess I’m going to get out of here and leave you alone. For good.” 

In any other circumstance, Pip might agree that Damien leaving was a good idea. But…something about letting him go off on his own, now knowing that Damien had been kicked out of his home, didn’t sit right with him. 

It certainly wasn’t Pip’s responsibility to ensure that Damien had a place to stay, and who knows? Perhaps Damien had connections in the mortal realm, other people who he would rather go to for assistance. It was possible, yes, but Pip had this feeling. He had this feeling that if he let Damien walk through that door, that he’d be basically letting him go off out there to fend for himself. 

Why did he feel that way?

Well, it really just came down to one specific thing. Something that Damien had said earlier, or written, rather. Before Pip had known who he was. 

You looked like you needed someone. 

I guess I did too. 

Pip found it somewhat hard to believe that Damien could leave his home and find someplace to go, and the idea of letting him do that bothered Pip enough that he found himself making an offer that, frankly, Damien would be really dumb to turn down.

It wasn’t until Damien had started for the door that Pip stepped in. He reached out, not really thinking about his actions until he’d already grabbed Damien’s sleeve, gently tugging him to a stop. 

“Wait a moment, Damien.”

Damien did take pause and turned to look at Pip, brows furrowed slightly. The blond released his grip once he noticed and planted a friendly smile on his face. 

“It’s quite late, you know. Not to mention, the snow has been coming down for the past few hours, I imagine it’s blanketed over by now. So, I think it may be for the best if you were to stay here for the rest of the night.”

For a second, there was a fleeting look of confusion that crossed Damien’s face. It was quickly replaced by a look of slight irritation as he said, “I don’t want your charity.”

Partly anticipating a response like that, Pip was quick to reply, “Yes, I’m sure you don’t. But even so, I get the feeling that you may need it, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

A silence ensued for a few seconds. Damien just stared at him before he finally opened his mouth to say something.

”Are you stupid?”

Okay, so that wasn’t exactly the response that Pip had been expecting. 

He blinked and tilted his head in a questioning manner. “Pardon?”

Damien seemed even more irritated, though Pip didn’t get the feeling that it was directed at him. Jaw clenched and arms folded over his chest, Damien huffed out a long sigh through his nose. Those crimson eyes were sharp, nearly glowing in the dim lighting of Pip’s bedroom.

“You know nothing about me or what kind of being I am. Yet, without batting an eye, you invite me to stay here, in your room? Do you have no regard for your own safety?”

Pip kept his gaze steady, even somewhat kind, as he crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. 

In a calm, even tone, Pip replied, “That’s not entirely true. I know some things about you. I know that you are the son of Satan. I know that you were a terrible brat when we were kids. I know that you embarrassed me in front of everyone I knew, and then disappeared without saying goodbye.”

Damien’s jaw twitched.

“And,” Pip went on, “while you may have me believe that you have no heart or an ounce of kindness in your soul, I know that that isn’t true. I know that you have more empathy than any other bloke in this town, because if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to protect me. I know that, despite what you did when we were children, you came back to…watch over me, or however you’d like to put it. Being that strange things have been happening to me for a while now, I would assume it’s been at least a couple of months. If I’d thought you planned on harming me, I’d think you would have had plenty of opportunities to do so already. Yes, perhaps I don’t know everything about you, but I know enough to believe that you are not a threat to me.”

He didn’t wait for Damien to come up with a retort to any of that. Instead, he got up and brushed past him to his closet, continuing to talk along the way. 

“I am offering you a warm place to sleep,” Pip said, reaching for one of the top shelves to retrieve an extra quilt, “and you are going accept my offer, because at this very moment, the only other option you have is wandering around in the freezing cold, trudging through inches of snow, to go…where exactly?” He turned slightly to look back at Damien then, who suddenly flicked his gaze away. “Hm, I figured as much.” Sliding the door shut, the Brit came back over to where Damien stood and offered him the quilt with a pleased smile on his face. “So, please, make yourself comfortable. In fact, you may even take my bed for the night if sleeping on the floor bothers you.”

At this point, Pip had no worries. He firmly believed that Damien posed no threat to him, so nothing to worry about there. All he wanted was for Damien to accept his offer so that he could go back to sleep, and if he continued to argue with him about it, then Pip would have no choice but to drag him over and tuck him into the damn bed himself. Whatever it took to get him to comply. 

To his surprise, Damien actually didn’t try arguing with him. At first, he did seem a bit hesitant to take the blanket, but after some thought, he must have realized that Pip was right, and in that case, what would be the point in fighting about it? Pip felt some relief when Damien mumbled out a low, reluctant ‘thanks.’

There was a short, awkward beat of silence before Damien shifted where he stood, still clutching the quilt in one hand.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he decided. “I don’t need your bed.”

“Alrighty then, suit yourself,” Pip replied with a little shrug. While he would have given his bed up, he was silently glad that Damien was okay with the floor. He moved around the dark boy over to his bed to retrieve one of his pillows and handed that to him as well. “On these colder nights, it can get a bit chilly, so I hope you don’t mind the sound of the heater.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I—” There was a pause as Damien stopped himself short. Pip glanced over at him from where he was turning on the heater which sat a few feet away from the foot of his bed. Damien’s eyes narrowed, and then he sighed quietly, turning his head down. “Whatever,” he mumbled, choosing not to elaborate on whatever it was he had been about to say before. Pip wondered what that was about and why he seemed kind of disgruntled all of a sudden. 

Neither of them said anything else while Damien was getting comfortable on the ground and Pip was returning to the comfort of his own bed. It was a bit strange to know that there was another person sharing his space, Pip thought as he buried himself under the blanket. Even stranger that it was Damien, of all people, but even if it wasn’t, it would still be weird. Having a sleepover wasn’t exactly a common occurrence for him. The last time he had shared a room with anyone had been a few years back before he’d moved in with his current foster family. Since then, he’d always had his own space, which he very much preferred. There was not a single part of him that longed to return to the days of sharing small quarters with a bunch of other boys. 

But even though it was weird, it wasn’t necessarily bad having Damien here, Pip supposed. Now…as for where they went from here, that was a whole other situation. He figured they could talk about it more tomorrow, or perhaps he’d wake up in an empty room if Damien decided that he preferred to go somewhere else once the sun came up. Either way, that was a topic for a later time. He shouldn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it right now when he could be getting some much needed sleep instead. 

Pip intended to do just that, but as he laid there for a few minutes with his eyes closed, he found that sleep would not come as easily as he would’ve liked. After a few more minutes, he shifted, rolling onto his other side. Cracking his eyes open, he could make out the spot where Damien had settled on the floor a couple of feet out. It was obvious that he wasn’t asleep yet either. Not by the sound of his breathing, but by his position. Pip could see that he was laying on his back, and when he focused a little more, he could also see that he was staring at the ceiling. 

“Trouble sleeping?” asked Pip a moment later in the stillness of the room. 

That grabbed Damien’s attention as he turned his head over to look at Pip. “Not really,” he mumbled. “I’m just thinking.”

Pip thought that was both the truth and a lie, but he didn’t call him out on it. Instead, he decided to pry a little, curious to find out whether Damien was willing to talk to him more about his personal life or not. 

“What about? Home?” he asked just as a guess. 

Damien’s gaze lingered on him for a bit longer before he replied. 

“No. Not exactly.”

When Damien didn’t elaborate, Pip considered asking a different question, but with the simple responses he was getting, he wondered if it was even worth it to try. Maybe Damien just wasn’t up for chatting, or perhaps he wasn’t very talkative by nature. Pip was less inclined to believe the latter to be true just from what he knew of Damien when he was younger. The boy never had any qualms about speaking, sometimes going a bit too overboard with oversharing at times. He probably just wasn’t in a good mood and wanted to be left alone for a while. Pip could definitely understand if that was the case. 

However, just as he thought about turning back over to reattempt going back to sleep, he was caught off guard by Damien suddenly sitting up in his makeshift bed. The next words that came out of his mouth left Pip feeling even more surprised. 

“I should’ve said sorry.” A beat of silence before Damien expanded upon that. “Back then. And I never said goodbye because I couldn’t bring myself to face you after what I did. Even then, I knew it was wrong, I just didn’t want to own up to it. It was easier to leave, thinking I’d never see or talk to you ever again, than to try to ask for your forgiveness.”

That certainly was a confession that Pip never imagined he would get. It caught him off guard so much that he wasn’t sure of how to respond at first. 

He didn’t have to say anything, though, because Damien went on further.

“I was a coward,” he admitted, voice firm. “You didn’t deserve that. You were the only one who actually gave a shit. You were kind to me, and I still kick myself to this day for taking advantage of that and ruining everything. You were right. I was a brat.”

Pip needed a moment to process those words. 

“You were,” he agreed with a soft huff of breath. “You humiliated me in front of everyone.”

There was a brief pause. “I know,” Damien said, voice softer than before. 

“And you made me feel like a fool,” Pip went on, but he didn’t sound bitter at all—if anything, he was calm. “Like I was nothing but a joke.”

“I know.”

Pip fiddled with the corner of his blanket while he talked. “Not that that was anything new for me. You weren’t the first to make me feel that way and you certainly haven’t been the last. But…for whatever reason…it hurt more coming from you.” 

Pip wasn’t entirely sure if he had meant to say that last part out loud. In the end, he was glad that he had because he thought that it needed to be said after all this time. 

He wasn’t looking at Damien anymore, but he could still feel his eyes on him. The silence that stretched across that short period of time turned the atmosphere a bit awkward once more.

“I’m sorry.”

He was less surprised to hear Damien apologize after his earlier confession, Pip could sense that he’d felt that way without having to verbalize it. But to actually hear the words spoken to him for once felt like it was exactly what he’d needed, even if he hadn’t realized it until that moment. 

How absurd this was, really, Pip couldn’t help to think. That Damien would come crashing back into his life in this way, would end up in his bedroom in the middle of the night apologizing for something he’d done eight years ago. Of all the strange occurrences in his life, this one was definitely up there. Out of everyone who had ever wronged him, it was the son of Satan who felt the most remorse for what he’d done to him. 

Whether that was a good or bad thing, Pip had no idea. It was just kind of…funny, in a way.

He couldn’t help it—he snorted. The sound escaped him before he could smother it with a hand.

“Sorry,” Pip said, biting back the urge to chuckle. “That was rude of me.”

He half expected Damien to get angry, so when he didn’t, it was a pleasant surprise. 

“I know it sounds ridiculous coming from me. If you don’t believe me, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No, I believe you, and you’re not wrong. It is a bit ridiculous. Not that I don’t appreciate it.” Pip pulled the blanket tighter around him as he curled a bit further into himself. “I do, it’s nice to hear you say that. I just find this to be a very strange situation, is all.”

Pip’s words evolved into a yawn at the very end there and he rubbed at his tired eyes. Maybe now if he tried he could get some sleep. But, before that, there was one other question lingering in Pip’s mind. Something which had just occurred to him as he thought about everything.

To ask or not to ask was another question, but he was curious to know. Plus, he was certain that he already knew the answer, more than anything he wanted to confirm his own suspicions. 

“Damien?”

Blinking his eyes open, Pip found that Damien had moved and was laying down again, but his attention was already drawn to Pip. 

“What?”

“You’re without your powers, aren’t you?”

Damien wasn’t too quick to give him an answer. It was almost as if he didn’t want to. However, eventually, he relented. 

“Yeah. I am.”

That was precisely what Pip had suspected, although having his suspicions confirmed didn’t make him feel much better. Because that meant that this situation just became much trickier. 

Without his powers, Damien was, more or less, human. So, not only had he been left stranded, but he had been left vulnerable, as well. Pip couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable and unsettling that must feel. 

In spite of all of that, though, he hoped that in this space Damien could seek out some form of safety. At least for tonight. 

Come tomorrow, things could, and probably would, look very different. For better or for worse was unknown, but they would cross that bridge when they got to it. They could tackle exactly what it meant for Damien to be stuck here in the mortal realm, powerless, once they both managed to get some proper sleep, Pip thought. Deep down, he had the feeling that Damien wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.