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Chapter Text

The chime in Jude’s earpiece made him fire off the last shot wide and he scowled, rising up off the mat to tap the results screen on its stand. The prototype L98A4 rifle had been doing well – an improvement in comfort and ease of use compared to the last model – until the noise of the house chimes had disturbed his rhythm.

Jude put the rifle strap over his shoulder and took off the goggles and ear defenders to head up out of the basement in the lift. He walked slowly through the kitchen towards the door, wincing at the ache in his knee, announcing aloud that this was Mr Attaway’s residence and what business did they have with him? The response came back clear and flat through the intercom, His Majesty’s soldiers bringing official recompense as issued to all soldiers wounded in combat. Jude ran a hand through his short hair, checking the porch cameras to confirm the men were who they said they were and ordered the door open, standing in the entrance hall as two men in soldiers’ uniforms came inside, bringing a demon male with them,

Jude took a step back. The demon was barely on his feet, held there by the soldiers, the three of them damp from the rain outside. The demon wore only a thin shift and rough, black work trousers with his arms pinned behind him. A demon of the realm. Jude said nothing, only frowned. The solider on the right, slightly older with wispy, light hair and tanned skin, cleared his throat,

“Sir, can you confirm that this is 43 Devil’s Creek and that you are the owner of the property, Mr Jude H. Attaway?”

“Yeah that’s me.” Jude said. Cleared his throat.

“Sir, we were instructed to issue you with demon 538111 and to inform you that along with your normal monthly wage you will also receive expenses to cover the cost of ownership and upkeep.” He shifted under the demon’s weight, clearly uncomfortable, “If we could put him somewhere for you then we can run through the necessary legal documentation and sort out any queries you might have.” Jude frowned,

“I wasn’t aware of this.” He said. The blond man took a basic, military-issue tablet, shifting the demon’s weight slightly as he scanned the screen,

“The request was inputted by a Mr Forest E. Attaway?” He said, after several minutes and Jude’s scowl deepened.

“My brother.” He acknowledged, glancing down at the demon with his slack face and sharp eyes, fixed on him. Jude turned and headed back to the kitchen, limping slightly off his bad leg. The soldiers took that as permission to follow as they trailed after him with the muted thud of their boots and the rasping drag of the demon’s trousers against the wooden floorboards of the entrance way and then the cold stone tiles of the kitchen.

As Jude went to replace the new rifle model in its metal case on the wall, locking it with his fingerprint, the soldiers settled the demon on his knees, unlocking his cuffs and pulling off his shirt. The demon didn’t resist. Jude wasn’t sure he could have if he’d wanted to;

“Have you drugged him?” Jude said, leaning back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to take the weight off his knee. The younger soldier started, glancing at the blond one. He answered perfectly calmly,

“For the trip, it is standard procedure to give the demons something to ease their tension and make them easier to handle.” Jude grunted in return, watching in silence as the older soldier pulled out his tablet again. He looked up from it,

“I’ve just sent the contract over to your house account which outlines your rights and the demons’ standard expenses. All information about returns, replacements; everything like that is covered in there.” Jude nodded tersely, giving the soldiers a flat stare when the younger one went to lift the kneeling demon to his feet. He struggled with the weight of the demon, who was taller and broader across the shoulders than he was, turning the demon around to show Jude the demon’s bare back,

“As part of the contract,” The older soldier spoke impassively as Jude swallowed, pulling his eyes away from the marks on the demon’s skin, “we are required to inform you that this demon has had several behavioural incidents in the past and has been in need of severe reprimanding in the past.” The evidence of that was laid out in scars on the demon’s skin. Jude said nothing, “The demon is wearing a containment collar with electric controls and auto-magnetic cuffs.” The solider demonstrated by tapping on his tablet, the cuffs coming together with a snick, pulling the demon’s shoulders back and opening his chest out. The demon shifted position slightly, “He also has a tracker embedded somewhere under his skin which can be used to monitor his position on a day to day basis and also in case of escape. Do you have any questions?”

“How long is he here for?” Jude asked slowly, watching as the demon was set back on his knees, still with his back to Jude. He was shaking slightly.

“He’s legally yours until he dies or becomes useless. All the details about old age and medical care are laid out in full in the contract.”

“How long will the drug take to wear off?” Jude asked, clenching his fist as a spasm of pain shot down his calf,

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour, sir. If you have any concerns feel free to contact-” Jude interrupted him,

“When will the money come through?” The blond man smiled tightly and said,

“Your monthly pay and his expenses fund should transfer to your bank account within twenty-four hours. If they don’t, you can call customer services. The contact line is-”

“Is that all?” Jude cut him off, inwardly wincing,

“Yes, sir. We hope you have a pleasant day.” The two men turned and departed swiftly, the door closing behind them with a click. Jude groaned in pain and slid himself down to the floor as his leg gave out, trying to settle his rasping breathing. His pain medication was sat on the table in the middle of the room and after a moment, Jude ordered himself up again, struggling back to his feet, your mission, soldier, is to get to the table and take your goddamn medicine, leaning on the counter as he worked his way over there, avoiding looking at the kneeling demon.

He swallowed his two tablets dry and sat down on one of the six hard plastic chairs around the table. He only ever sat in one, the seats of the other chairs were coated in a film of dust, disturbed once a fortnight by the cleaning team his brother organised.

“Get up, will you, and put your shirt on.” Pain made Jude short tempered and it wasn’t until the demon made an effort to stagger to his feet that Jude remembered he’d been given some sort of drug, and that the demon was still cuffed. Suppressing a groan, Jude got back to his feet and went to steady the demon. Only, when he went to touch the demon’s shoulder the swaying demon flinched back and stumbled, falling against the wall in order to keep himself upright. “Steady there.” Jude muttered, taking the demon’s neatly folded shift from where the soldier had left it on the counter. It was thin and rough like sack material and Jude scowled and tossed the garment in the bin in the corner. The demon followed Jude’s movements with feverishly bright eyes, “Just stay there, alright.” Jude said, “I’ll fetch you one of mine.”

Jude limped out of the kitchen and across the corridor to his room - the whole house was open-plan and on the same level, apart from the basement which had its own lift - taking one of his shirts from the piles on the shelves of his wardrobe. As he did so, he made a list aloud of the clothes the demon would need, since he hadn’t brought any with him, ordering the house system to buy them in and have them delivered, putting it on his account. His brother offered Jude money every time he came to visit but since he’d bought Jude the house when he’d first come back from the war and still paid for its upkeep, including gardening staff, Jude refused to let him pay for anything else, insisting that the cleaning and groceries went on his account, and though physio was subsidised by the military he paid the small amount it did cost him to have his twice weekly sessions.

The medication began to kick in, dulling everything and making him drowsy, shutting out the pain somewhat, though today’s rain seemed to have seeped into his joints.

Supporting himself against the wall, Jude managed to get himself back to the kitchen. The demon was kneeling by the same bit of wall he’d fallen against, just about holding himself upright. Jude saw tension tighten his shoulder blades, his arms flexing against his cuffs and Jude frowned, directing the house system to release the auto-magnets. The demon started at the sound of Jude’s voice, bringing his arms protectively to his chest as they were released. Still holding the shirt, Jude said,

“Are you able to walk?” The demon nodded in response and shakily got to his feet, following Jude back towards his bedroom. Jude put the shirt down on the side and bent to massage his knee, wincing. The demon came in behind him, hovering at the door uncertainly. “Just have a rest. Wait until the drug wears off, alright?” The demon nodded uncertainly and Jude left him alone.

The door chimes rang a few minutes later and the house system recognised the physio’s fingerprint and let him in on Jude’s command.

“Morning Jude, how’re you doing today? Pretty wet outside.” The physio, a fit, cheerful man in his early forties put his coat over a chair and laid out the mat Jude had come to call the torture mat. The physio’s comment about the weather said that he knew Jude was in pain and Jude grunted his agreement before lowering himself down, “Alright, relax then for me, we’ll just start by doing some leg raises, a little higher and then down. Okay, good. And again for me.” The session left Jude tired and sore and he got to his feet slowly once it was over. “I’ll see you next Tuesday, then, Jude.” The physio said, pausing to look over Jude’s shoulder. Jude followed his gaze, turning to see the demon coming down the corridor towards them, still bare-chested. The physio smiled and nodded at Jude but didn’t comment, “I’ll be off then.” He said, the door shutting loudly behind him. Jude took a long breath and went to get a hot drink, watching the demon off to the side. He was taller than Jude with broad shoulders and a steady, impassive expression that made him seem both guarded and apprehensive. He was still shirtless and Jude saw him shiver,

“I left a shirt on the side for you.” Jude said curtly, “in the bedroom.” The demon looked at him for a moment before hesitantly moving back towards the bedroom. Jude frowned as the demon turned his back and he looked away, moving over to the sofas in front of the screen, flicking through the channels mindlessly until a crime drama came on, bringing his scalding coffee to his lips to take a sip.

Chapter Text

Jude didn’t wake until mid-afternoon. Half-awake and lethargic, Jude looked down to see the demon kneeling by the glass coffee table. Every few moments, his head would fall forwards before he’d jerk it up, the muscles in his neck flexing, his shoulders sloped with weariness. Jude sat up and the demon flinched without turning his head. Jude checked his watch and cursed aloud, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair and getting to his feet to make something to eat, though he didn’t feel particularly hungry.

The cleaner, Louisa, always left plastic boxes of soup in his freezer, possibly on his brother’s instructions, and Jude put one in the microwave before turning around to look at where the demon was now stood by the edge of the kitchen counter. Jude studied at him for a moment, seeing how a shirt which was fairly loose on him was a little tight on the demon,

“Drugs worn off now, demon?” Jude asked. The demon kept his head down as he replied, his voice rough with disuse,

“Yes, sir.” The title didn’t seem right coming from the demon,

“What’s your name?”

“Whatever you want it to be, sir.” Jude frowned at that, shifting his weight off his sore knee,

“What’s your given name, then?”

“Demon 538111, sir.” Jude didn’t know if the demon was misunderstanding or being deliberately obscure,

“What did you do to get the marks on your back?” The demon seemed reluctant to answer,

“I was a poorly behaved, sir.” He seemed to realise that it wasn’t a satisfactory answer and added, “I’ll try my best to do better.”

“But what did you actually do?” Jude asked, a little harsher than he had meant to. The demon cleared his throat and avoided eye contact,

“I prepared an inadequate dinner, I didn’t clean the car thoroughly enough, I wasn’t awake when my owner wanted me, I moved away when my owner touched me, I talked to a human who hadn’t asked me a direct question, I resisted my owner when he wanted to undress me-”

“Stop. Christ, stop alright.” The demon snapped his jaw shut and bowed his head, his shoulders tense. Jude ran a hand over his jaw, a sick feeling settled in his stomach, “How many owners have you had?” He asked finally,

“One, sir.” The demon said quietly, “And you.” Jude muttered an expletive and then the microwave pinged and, distracted, he scalded his finger getting the plastic out. Burnt finger in his mouth, he tipped the soup into a couple of bowls with some grated cheese on top and brought them over to the table.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said by way of apology as he went to fetch cutlery, starting when he turned to see the demon kneeling by his chair, “You’re not a dog.” He snapped to mask his shock, “Take a seat, demon.” The demon stood, glancing at him with narrowed, confused eyes. Jude sat down in his usual chair and pointed to the one opposite, pushing a bowl towards him, “Sit there and have your soup.” The demon did as he was told, handling the cutlery clumsily and glancing across the table at Jude. The man ate slowly, without much appetite, but finished the bowl none the less. The light caught the silver rings at the demon’s wrists, wide and heavy. Jude glanced over them and then up to the black collar around the demon’s neck, made of a slim metal circlet laid over a wider, thicker, leather band. He was reminded of the soldier's words; The demon is wearing a containment collar with electric controls. He looked away. The power he held over the demon made him feel ill, primarily because he knew the demon wouldn’t even attempt to fight him back.

 “I’ve got some work I need to do.” He said flatly, wiping his wet hands on his trousers before heading out the kitchen, leaving the demon standing by the table, looking after him.

…

Jude finished up his report on the prototype rifle; summarising adaptions and improvements, as well as specifications of the weapon which were to be kept the same, sending it off to the company’s secretary who would then pass it on to design and manufacture. The demon’s contract flashed up as a reminder and Jude settled back and opened it, scanning through it.

Jude didn’t finish reading till almost an hour later when he sat back and rubbed his tired eyes. The demon was only just twenty-one but the last paragraph came back to him;

‘Up until and including the age of forty-five, the demon is covered by insurance for any health problems or accidents but once the demon has reached this age they are no longer insured and the owner may reapply.’

“’til your old age do we part.” Jude muttered humourlessly and closed the document, saving the notes he’d made on it. He checked over his finances and found that the money had gone in, though there wasn’t much to cover the demon’s costs. Jude sighed and roused himself from his seat, the projection dulling itself and then shutting down automatically when Jude left the room.

“Demon?” Jude came into the kitchen to find the demon kneeling on the hard tiles, near motionless, “What are you doing sat there?” Jude demanded sharply. The demon flinched,

“I’m sorry, sir.” He said quietly, Jude stared at him,

“What for?” He snapped, “Stand up, will you.” The demon did as he was told, his legs shaky, keeping his head down,

“I didn’t know where the cleaning supplies were, sir, and I didn’t want to disturb you.” He stumbled over his words, clearly agitated, “I didn’t know if you wanted dinner making. I’m afraid my previous owner said I wasn’t any good at cooking, sir.” The demon snapped his mouth shut like he’d said too much. He was rigid and Jude belatedly realised how afraid the demon was,

“Alright,” he said roughly, “Its fine.” The demon stayed motionless and Jude rubbed his forehead, checking his watch; half past four. “Do you want a book to read or something?”

“I can’t read, sir.” The demon told him quietly. Jude kept his expression blank, going to sit down on one of the sofas,

“Alright. You can join me if you’d like. There’s not a lot to do. You’ll have to keep yourself busy somehow.”

“Yes sir.” The demon said, his voice the same low, inoffensive undertone; pacifying. Jude watched the demon lower himself to kneel by Jude’s feet, his face by Jude’s shins, turned with his back to the tele though he carefully avoided meeting Jude’s eyes,

“You like kneeling, demon?” A muscle, barely noticeable, twitched in the demon’s jaw,

“If you like it, sir.” The demon’s voice stayed carefully even. Jude marvelled at the male’s control and kept his eyes on the wall opposite, moving through the channels with a flick of his hand,

“I don’t like it.” He said flatly, his voice hard. “If you’re going to stay here, sit on the sofa and watch the screen.”

“Yes sir.” The demon muttered, getting off his knees to hesitantly sit down beside Jude, glancing at the man as if anticipating the moment when Jude would revoke the instruction and punish him.

“You got any preferences for what we watch?” The demon turned to stare at him and Jude looked back. Jude lifted his eyebrows, “I’m taking your silence as ‘no preference’” he said, “So if you’ve got something against a Die Hard marathon, it’s too late now.”

Demon’s POV

The demon blinked as Jude settled back, the colours of the start of the film playing across his features. The demon pulled his eyes away before he got caught and found his eyes on the wall. Jude had told him to watch the screen, given him permission to have his full attention on the film but he struggled with the ever present doubt and anxiety, as well as an increasingly uncomfortable pressure in his bladder, kept him from fully immersing himself in what was happening. Jude watched with his lips quirked up at the side, following the often violent action with the glee of a child. The demon shuddered, a sick feeling settling in his stomach.

The film progressed and the demon forgot himself for a while but, as the credits rolled, Jude announced he was going to bed and the demon felt the remnants of his pleasure dissipated. The faces on the screen and rousing music mocked him until Jude motioned it off and there was just blackness and quiet, heavy and cloying between them.

Jude stood in the same moment that the demon slid down into kneeling, all in one fluid action, his head bowed. Jude frowned and turned away,

“Come with me.” He said, his voice low and even. The demon envied the man’s calm, though he knew rationally that the man had no reason to be anxious and the demon had every reason to be.

Jude led him to the bedroom. He took some clothes from the side of the bed and left to go to the bathroom. The demon hadn’t been to the toilet since before the journey but Jude hadn’t yet permitted him to go. With his previous owner, it would have been power-play - with Jude he wasn’t so sure. It could be mind-games, simple indifference to the demon’s needs or humiliation tactics, the demon didn’t know yet. He had to go, though, the night would be uncomfortable and degrading enough without him pissing over himself in the middle of it, like he was a scared kid.

Jude came back into the bedroom wearing just a loose pair of grey trousers, his chest left bare, and the demon dropped his gaze and opened his mouth but Jude spoke first,

“If you want to go and freshen up, the bathroom’s free now.” The demon closed his mouth, considering Jude with slight surprise before he duly said ‘yes sir’ and stepped out of the room.

In the bathroom, the demon quickly relieved himself and washed his face, eyeing the running water greedily, though he didn’t let himself to drink from the tap; there would be cameras watching and he’d likely be punished for it later if he did. He didn’t take risks like that unless he was desperate.

He returned to the room to see Jude’s throat moving as he tipped back water from a glass on the bedside table and the demon swallowed, his own mouth dry.

He waited for Jude to roughly order him to undress or for the man to come over to him at least but Jude just stood there, the bed between them and the glass still in his hand. Jude must have seen him glance at it before the demon forced his eyes down because he offered it, almost like he wasn’t taunting,

“You want some?” The demon didn’t meet his gaze but he nodded hesitantly and slowly came around the bed. To his vague surprise, Jude put the glass in his hand and sat down on the edge of the bed, elbows on his thighs. The demon relished the drink but didn’t take too much, putting the glass back down on the bedside table when Jude didn’t seem inclined to take it back.

Jude looked over at the demon briefly, looking at the demon’s body rather than his face. The demon’s nails dug into his palms,

“Are you fine to sleep in that?” Jude asked, his voice dull, “Or do you want something else to wear?” The demon blinked, looking down at his standard issue trousers and Jude’s plain, soft shirt,

“This is good, sir, thank you.” He managed after a long pause.

Jude dropped his head after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck wearily before he stood to slide under the covers, moving across the bed to allow the demon to lie down beside him. On his back, the covers stiflingly heavy and soft, the demon floundered.

Jude rolled over, turning his back to the demon. He wasn’t interested. The demon tried to regulate his breathing, tried to keep himself still. The man was gone in moments and after a while the demon’s anxiety exhausted him sufficiently that he was able to follow Jude into sleep.

Movement woke him. The room was semi-light and Jude was shifting restlessly beside him, still asleep. A sudden cry set the demon on edge and he started, slipping out of the bed when Jude kicked out against the covers with a choked moan. The demon settled on his knees by the bedside table and waited. Jude shifted and turned, muttering in his sleep until, with a strangled cry, he came awake, gasping, his eyes wide open and unseeing,

“Oh God,” he said, breathless with pain, “Oh God.” The demon stayed silent throughout and only when Jude’s breathing had steadied did Jude noticed the demon kneeling on the floor. “How long have you been there?” He asked, his voice thick. The demon glanced up, catching the sheen of sweat on the man’s neck and the panicked wideness of his eyes. He told the truth,

“Not long, sir.”

“Alright, okay, good.” There was silence,

“Would you like me to make a drink for you?” The demon was hesitant about speaking. Usually he was given orders and expected to follow them to the letter, but this man had given him nothing; no boundaries or rules but also no freedoms, no instructions and no explanation. The uncertainty grated on his nerves as much as knowing that something awful was about to happen, because it might be, he didn’t know. The demon took a breath, kept his eyes on the floor.

“No. I’ll get one in a minute.” In his peripheral vision, the demon saw Jude fall back against the pillow, his eyes on the ceiling for several minutes, doing nothing but blinking and breathing. “Did I disturb you?” Jude said after a moment, startling him. The demon dragged his eyes away to look at the floor,

“No, sir. It was… nice.” The demon saw Jude turn to look at him and he cringed when the man said, his expression twisted,

“Nice?” The demon cleared his throat and shifted nervously,

“The bed, sir.” He clarified, “It was nice.”

“Oh.” Jude huffed, pushing himself and getting out on the side of the bed nearest to the door, “Come on, I’m hungry. What do you usually have for breakfast?” The demon belatedly realised the man was talking to him and stuttered,

“Breakfast, sir? What do you want me to make?” Jude raised his eyebrows,

“I was asking what you usually had.” He said evenly,

“I- it,” the demon didn’t know what to say, “It would depend, sir.”

“On...?” Jude pressed and the demon avoided looking at him,

“On whether there was food left over from a meal the night before, sir. On how hungry my owner was, or how well I’d done that which he asked of me.” The demon hadn’t done anything last night, or even yesterday other than wash up the soup bowls at lunch. He hadn’t earnt sleeping in the bed and he certainly hadn’t earnt breakfast. As Jude brought out cereal and milk and bowls the demon thought about how he’d have to repay the man for all of this. The thought didn’t help his painfully tight stomach.

The demon forced the cereal down regardless, taking the dishes up, given that Jude hadn’t jumped up to do it the moment he’d finished eating.

After, without saying anything, Jude limped back towards the bedroom before shutting himself in the bathroom, leaving the demon alone again. The demon showed little outward reaction but inwardly, he sighed. He went to the kitchen and, with meticulous care, dried the dishes on the drying rack and made himself familiar with the kitchen’s layout, noticing that there were only two of everything except cutlery. Looking around, there was nothing left to do and the demon reluctantly went to kneel on the floor, cursing the cold stone. He sat on his heels and began to wait.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing there again?” Jude’s rough tone startled him and the demon tensed up,

“I’m sorry, sir.” He said quietly. Jude muttered a curse and told him to get up. His lower legs had gone numb after the first forty minutes so standing wasn’t easy. He took it slow, carefully keeping him balance, pressing his lips together tightly as the blood began to return,

“You didn’t answer my question.” Jude said, “Didn’t we discuss this yesterday?” The demon didn’t know what to say – everything he could think of sounded like insolence,

“I thought that was what you wanted, sir.” He tried, his voice steady and flat, “I apologise if I was mistaken.” The demon felt himself being observed, scrutinised. The fact that he couldn’t tell what the man wanted worried him.

“I don’t want you to kneel like this.” Jude said finally. The demon’s face didn’t change,

“Yes, sir.” He said. “Would standing be preferable?”

“Instead of just, sitting here, what would you usually occupy yourself with?” Jude asked instead of answering,

“I can clean, sir. Garden or cook. Whatever my owner requires of me.” Jude looked at him with an expression the demon couldn’t read,

“I see.” He said. “I- I can’t think of a use for you. I didn’t request a demon,” he admitted bluntly, “It was my brother.” The demon didn’t react, his face clear of any emotion as he said,

“I can serve you sir, more personally, if you’d like that.”

“What?” Jude’s tone was perplexed and inwardly the demon seethed, even as he stepped forward, eyes downcast and face vacant,

“I am here to provide whatever you want, sir.” Jude took a step back,

“I want you to back off,” he snapped. The demon did, hastily, mind reeling as he replayed the scenario in his head, trying to spot his mistake. “Go and sit over there.” Jude tone was angry, disgusted. The demon remembered the man’s reaction to his scars and fought to keep his conflicting emotions securely contained behind his blank face, his mask.

There was a long silence and, from he was sat on the floor – not kneeling – the demon spoke hesitantly,

“You might be able to arrange an exchange if you contact the help line before too long, sir.”

“Arrange an exchange?” Jude repeated and the demon winced. “Get rid of you, you mean?” The demon nodded shakily. He didn’t like to think what would happen if he got sent back,

“Yes sir,” he said quietly before adding, “I’m sorry I don’t appeal to you.”

“Rape doesn’t appeal to me.” Jude snapped and the demon glanced up, keeping his mouth shut, “That has nothing to do with you or how you look.” Jude’s hand went down to touch his knee and he moved over to the side to swallow one of his pills. His voice was steadier when he spoke again. “I’m not going to get rid of you, demon. Please- please go to the bedroom. I want to be alone.”

“Yes sir.” The demon gladly slipped away and went to sit on the floor against the wall. The tension exhausted him.

Jude’s POV

Jude sat down on the sofa and brought his knees up to his chest, left alone with his thoughts.

After a long while he told the house system to bring up camera footage of the demon. The demon mirrored his own posture almost exactly, though his head was laid down on his knees. Jude swallowed painfully.

…

Demon’s POV

Later, the demon heard a hesitant knock on the bedroom door and he got quickly to his feet. He didn’t understand why Jude felt the need to knock – perhaps he didn’t want to see the demon’s scars – but he opened the door hastily and stepped back, head bowed. The demon stared at Jude in disbelief when the man pushed a plate of eggs on toast into his hands,

“I thought you might be hungry. I don’t mind if you want to eat in here or with me in the kitchen.” The demon avoided looking at him as he said,

“Thank you, sir.” Jude didn’t respond, just turned and walked away.

The demon followed Jude slowly, plate in hand, to the kitchen and hesitantly took a seat opposite Jude. Jude looked up briefly from something he was reading, projected onto the table, but he made no comment, eating his food absentmindedly as he read.

The demon hated it. Nothing made sense and though he hadn’t done anything wrong yet, he couldn’t seem to do anything right either. The eggs felt slimy in his mouth and the toast was difficult to swallow. Half-way through, the demon looked down at the rest of it, now barely lukewarm, and felt sick at the thought of forcing it down. He put his fork down as softly as he could and looked down at his lap, his clammy hands clasped between his thighs.

“Demon?” The demon brought his head up to see Jude frowning, though only slightly, and his stomach churned violently,

“Yes sir?” He managed, his voice rasping and breathless,

“You look pale,” Jude said, his voice quiet and surprisingly soft, “Do you want to lie down? Or something different to eat?” The thought of eating anything was nauseating,

“No thank you, sir.” The demon said, swallowing with difficulty. When he glanced up, he saw Jude’s eyes on him, his expression confused, “May I go to the bathroom, sir?” The demon asked, his hands twisting in his lap,

“Of course.” Jude said, “You can go whenever you need to.” The demon looked up then, the sick feeling in his stomach forgotten for a moment, before Jude’s words sunk in and the demon got to his feet, overwhelmed and dizzy. With as much speed as he could manage without running, the demon left the room, feeling his stomach contract as he got nearer to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he threw up, retching raw stomach acid along with a mess of egg and brown mush. The demon was shaking by the time he was done, sweating heavily. But he got to his feet and wiped his mouth on a piece of toilet paper before flushing and moving to rinse out his mouth, splashing his face with water. He looked awful in the mirror, sickly and weak, his shoulders hunched and defensive. The demon drew them back and dried his face on Jude’s too small shirt, before glaring at the mirror. His reflection’s defiance brought a reluctant smile to his lips and he stepped out of the bathroom and back towards the kitchen.

Jude had moved the plates to the side; his scraped clean, the demon’s half full of concealed egg,

“I didn’t think you’d want the rest,” Jude said, rinsing his own plate in the sink, “but you’re welcome to it if you do.” The demon wasn’t sure of a correct response so he silently took his plate to the open bin and scraped the left-overs into the bin before Jude took the plate off him and washed it, leaving the demon with nothing to do but dry.

The doorbell rang suddenly and the house system informed Jude that it was his brother. Jude told the system to let him in, but the demon caught Jude’s frown as he dried his hands on his jeans and limped over to see his brother in. The demon kept his back turned, wiping the plates before carefully replacing them in the cupboards as quietly as he could manage. Jude and his brother were talking in the hallway, their voices staying civilly formal, and the demon hovered uncertainly before taking a cloth on the side to wipe down the table. He didn’t want to be seen to be idle when Jude’s brother came in, since he seemed to have been decisive in having the demon brought here.

“You didn’t ask.” Jude snapped suddenly and the demon jumped. The table was spotless and, looking around the kitchen there was nothing left to do, so the demon went reluctantly to stand by the wall with his arms folded behind him and his head lowered,

“Don’t you like him?” A man’s voice asked, strong and forceful, “I reckoned you’d prefer a male one, and he’d had a guy own him before, so I knew the demon would be, you know, like you.” Jude’s silence was cutting,

“Like me?” The demon listened with a rising sense of dread, but he didn’t dare retreat to the bedroom,

“Faggot, gay, homosexual, whatever, you know what I mean.” Jude’s brother spoke as if he was exasperated but the demon could hear an edgy undertone, like he knew he was treading on dangerous ground,

“No I don’t.” Jude said, his words clipped, “How would the gender of his previous owner determine his sexuality?” Jude’s brother heaved a sigh,

“I don’t know, Jude, I thought they latched onto their first owner or something, you know, imprinted. Does it matter? If you don’t like him, fine. I’ll get them to take it back.” The demon’s heart shuddered,

“He’s staying.” Jude said.

“So I was right then.” The demon could hear the smirk in the man’s voice,

“No. You were wrong. I didn’t ask for a demon and I don’t want one. Did you want something, in particular, Forest? Because, if not, I’ve got work to do.”

“I didn’t want a hug or anything, Jude, but a thanks would’ve been nice.” Jude didn’t reply, coming back into the kitchen to see the demon stood motionless and the demon saw the man’s limping step falter. Jude’s brother wolf-whistled as he came up behind Jude, “I can see why you changed your mind,” He said, smirking filthily, “He’s even better than he was in the picture, and he looked like a model in that.”

The demon saw a muscle twitch in Jude’s jaw as his brother approached the demon like he was appraising a sleek, expensive car, or a race horse. He palmed the demon’s jaw before roughly pulling the demon’s chin back with his fist in the demon’s cropped short hair. The demon swallowed, his hands fisting at his sides, though he didn’t move, looking down past his chin at Jude’s brother, a shorter, heavier, darker version of Jude. “Hot as hell.” Forest muttered and the demon took an unsteady breath, his eyes stinging from the pain in his scalp,

“Let go of him.” Jude snapped and Forest grinned in response, releasing the demon with a final tug,

“Fetch us some drinks, then, demon.” He said, moving to sprawl over the sofa. The demon hovered, looking over at Jude,

“Goddamn it, Forest, I have things to do.” Jude said, his voice sharp. Forest laughed,

“Well go do them, then, I’ll just crash here and watch the screen for a bit. You won’t hear a peep out of me.”

“Can’t you tell when I’m pissed at you?” Jude spat back viciously, “I don’t want you here.” Forest raised his eyebrows and got to his feet,

“Fine then,” he said, hands raised above his head, “Don’t shoot me with one of your fancy rifles, I’m going, I’m going.” Jude didn’t reply, watching Forest leave with a cold, heavy look in his eyes. The demon stood between them, waiting.

Forest left as abruptly as he’d come, closing the door behind him harder than necessary. The demon saw Jude’s shoulders go slack and he grimaced,

“Demon, can you-” Jude started, his hand on his sore knee. The demon remembered the pills Jude had been taking and moved off to the bedroom with a sudden rush of lightness, of purpose. He came back with the glass from the bedside table and handed them to Jude, who appraised him with mild surprise. The demon wasn’t sure what to do with himself once he’d handed them over so he took a step back and kept his arms by his sides. “Thanks.” Jude said, after he’d swallowed. The demon muttered a wary ‘yes sir’ and Jude seemed satisfied. “I’ve got some work to do, demon,” he said after a minute and the demon forcefully contained his dismay at the prospect of several more hours of torturous monotony, “do you want to watch the screen, or have the radio on, or something?” The demon blinked,

“If it pleases you, sir,” he said carefully, “I would like to watch the screen.”

“Alright then.” Jude said, turning on the screen before heading out of the room, “feel free to change the channel, okay?”

Chapter Text

Jude’s POV

Jude fired one of the new rifles until his arms were heavy with fatigue and his leg was throbbing, his medicine having worn off. He checked his watch and found it to be early evening and cursed. He’d forgotten about lunch entirely. Rising clumsily out of prone position to stand, Jude asked the house system where the demon was and the layout of the house appeared on the opposite wall with a red dot in the living room to show the demon’s whereabouts.

Jude sighed, feeling too weary to face the demon again. He just wanted to eat and collapse in bed. Wincing at the pain in his knee, he moved over to the lift with the heavy, ultra-modern black rifle hung over one shoulder. He came up to ground level and went to lock the rifle away, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings, on the off-chance the demon planned to ambush him; not that it would do him much good, considering that the tracker chip. The corridor was empty but Jude resolved to keep the rifles downstairs permanently now that there was now a demon in the house.

He was thinking about his plans to package this rifle up and send it back for alterations - the locking pins were too stiff, making the rifle difficult to clean - as he stepped into the kitchen. The screen was on, with a domestic drama playing quietly, but the demon was on the floor, doing press-ups at a pace that made Jude wince just to watch. Jude’s arrival went unnoticed for a few seconds before the screen went quiet for a moment and the demon suddenly lurched to his feet to give Jude a breathless, wild-eyed stare, his chest still heaving.

Jude blinked before moving slowly further into the kitchen, pretending not to see how the demon backed up a step,

“Alright to have a fast-meal?” Jude said, breaking the silence. The demon stared at him for a long moment,

“You would like me to make a quick meal, sir?” He said hesitantly, “What would you like?” Jude just shook his head and told the house system to order double his usual from Chindian. The demon was frowning slightly, seeming uncomfortable, his skin still glistening from the exercise. Jude didn’t have the energy to explain and he moved away into the bathroom without a word. He caught sight of his reflection and his eyebrows lowered slightly. His skin looked sallow and his hair was lank and chaotic. He hated the way his body had wasted since his time in the military. A picture of the demon, skin healthily flushed, lips parted and eyes wide, came uncalled into his mind and Jude dismissed it, ignoring his reflection as he finished up washing his hands, trying to get the smell of gun oil off his skin, and headed back into the kitchen. The demon was stood in exactly the same place he had been when Jude left. With the fast-meal not due for a while, Jude came to sit down on the couch, flicking through the channels before he found something to watch. The demon joined him after a few moments and they watched the program in silence until the house system alerted them to someone at the door.

They both stood at the same moment but the demon backed off instantly to allow Jude to pass, his head bowed. Jude felt too weary to confront the demon’s behaviour and he just moved for the door, paying the demon delivering it automatically. Fast-meal boxes in hand, Jude shut the door and carried the food inside, bringing it over to the sofa and putting it down on the coffee table before heading over to pick up cutlery from the drawer.

The demon hadn’t moved from where Jude left him and Jude thought, even in the dim evening light and with the demon’s normally light complexion, that he looked pale. Jude dropped down onto the couch, stretching out his sore shoulders before picking up one of the two boxes of food – a mixture of his favourite Indian and Chinese dishes. He dug into the piping hot food, wincing at the heat but finding himself too hungry to care. The sofa dipped beside him as the demon sat down but he didn’t make a move to pick up his food,

“Help yourself.” Jude told him, his mouth stuffed full. Jude shot glances in the demon’s direction, seeing him open the box gingerly, slowly reaching to take a fork off the table but making no further move to eat. Jude scowled, “What is it?” He snapped and the demon flinched, the screen characters chattering in the background, “What’s wrong with it?” Jude demanded, “You’ve got to be hungry. I don’t imagine you took the initiative to make any lunch for yourself, did you?” The demon looked sick and Jude put his dinner down slowly, turning the volume down on the screen. He saw the demon tense up and the male stabbed something on his fork, shoving it into his mouth, glancing over at Jude nervously as he chewed mechanically. Jude was still frowning as the demon struggled to swallow, “Look at me.” The demon lifted his head slowly, reluctantly meeting Jude’s eyes, “Do demons eat differently?” Jude asked, his irritation having disappeared entirely,

“No sir.” The demon replied quietly, his gaze falling back to the sofa fabric,

“Is it too spicy, then?” The demon shook his head slowly,

“No sir.” The demon voice cracked on the second syllable and Jude stared at him in utter perplexity,

“Then what?” He asked, trying to soften his voice somewhat,

“I’m sorry sir.” The demon said quietly, his eyes resolutely avoiding Jude’s,

“For not eating?”

“Yes sir.”

“Can you explain to me why you don’t want to?” Jude saw the demon close his eyes for a second,

“It’s not my place sir.” The demon all but whispered and Jude had to hold back his frustration,

“I’m asking you to explain.” Jude tried again and the demon was silent, his arm curling itself around his flat stomach. He seemed to be searching for words and Jude waited,

“I haven’t earnt this, sir.” The demon said finally and Jude blinked, trying to keep his expression blank,

“It’s food,” he said carefully, “you don’t need to earn it. You just get it.” Jude couldn’t tell what the demon was thinking as the male wouldn’t look at him,

“Yes sir.” The demon responded, his voice rough. He didn’t seem any more inclined to eat and Jude rolled the demon’s words over in his head,

“How would you have earnt your food, before?” He asked finally.

“By working, sir, and serving my owner as he wished.”

“I see.” Jude said, falling back against the sofa with a heavy sigh. He was silent for a while, “Could you take this as something you don’t need to earn? Not while you’re here.” The demon glanced over at him,

“As you wish, sir.” He said, impassive. Jude picked up his fork and took a mouthful, unobtrusively watching the demon. He saw the demon consider his box of food, frowning, before slowly beginning to eat.

Jude felt exhausted and once he was finished and the demon had eaten as much as he was willing to, which was only about half of the box though he looked distinctly guilty as Jude threw the rest away, Jude led the way to the bedroom, stripping off his shirt to fall straight into bed. The demon joined him shortly after, lying stiffly beside him like a doll. Jude was asleep almost instantly.

Chapter Text

Demon’s POV

The demon was woken the next morning by a short ringing sound. Jude, deeply asleep beside him, didn’t stir and the demon carefully extracted himself from the covers and moved out of the bedroom and down the hall to the door. As he approached, an image was projected onto the wall to the left of the door, similar to the large screen in the sitting room, and the demon could see that it showed the other side of the door. A demon male was stood there, holding a large parcel, shifting its weight to lift his hand and ring the house chimes again. Before the demon could think better of it, he put his hand on the door and was taken aback when it opened freely. The delivery demon gave him a hazy smile and said,

“A parcel for Mr Attaway?” The demon remembered that that was the name the soldiers had referred to Jude with. In the carrier vehicle on the way here, they had talked about Jude, saying how far the house was away from the city, that clearly the man hadn’t been able to cope with civilian life after being in the war. Said it was a shame. The demon had felt the vibrations through the floor of the vehicle as they travelled down the rutted lanes, passing endless swathes of dark trees, laden with needles. The trees had gone on and on for miles until even the soldiers had become impatient.

“That’s my owner.” He said, inwardly wincing at the words. The delivery demon’s expression seemed sympathetic as he said,

“I’m afraid I need Mr Attaway’s signature.” He said and the demon nodded,

“I’ll go and wake him,” He said, beginning to close the door, before pausing to say, “Please wait here.” Shutting the door behind him, the demon hurried over to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to take a steadying breath,

“Sir?” He said quietly. Jude was lying half under the covers, a slight crease between his eyebrows, his eyes shifting restlessly under his eyelids as he slept and one leg thrown out sideways. The demon was pulled up short at the sight of Jude’s knee. Jude had scars of his own and they weren’t any prettier than the demon’s. “Sir?” The demon tried again, his heart speeding up as he came towards the bed. He put his hand out to touch Jude’s shoulder but took it away before he made contact. He tried speaking louder, “Sir, there’s someone at the door.” Jude opened his eyes slowly, blinking up at him. The demon took a step backwards at the same moment Jude sat up and away from the demon, his eyes wide and clouded with a soldier’s survival instinct before he blinked and they cleared; human again,

“There’s a demon at the door, sir, with a parcel.” The demon said, trying to keep his voice steady, “He needs your signature, sir.” Jude grunted and pulled himself out of bed, his hair dishevelled, his eyes barely open as he moved out of the bedroom, the demon trailing him at a respectful distance. He paused as Jude stopped in front of him to lean on the hallway wall, his hand moving to touch his knee before he straightened, checked the screen next to the door, and opened it. The demon came up behind him, keeping his head down. He thought the delivery demon’s tone, whilst polite, was cold when he said,

“Sir, I just need your signature here, please.” The delivery demon offered Jude a tablet and Jude signed it, handing it back,

“There you go.” The delivery demon nodded and Jude moved aside to gesture for the demon to take the parcel, which he did, finding it bulky but not particularly heavy. His hand brushed the delivery demon for a second as he took the parcel and he was startled at the contact, colour rising in his cheeks when the delivery demon winked at him from across the parcel top, his expression so flat that the demon almost believed he had imagined it. A slight smile twitching on his lips, the demon turned away, carrying the parcel through to the living room to wait for Jude to tell him where to put it.

He heard Jude shut the door and the brief flush of happiness disappeared as the demon considered the parcel’s contents, though he forced himself to be better controlled than he had been last night. He winced at the memory.

“Put it down by the sofa, will you?” Jude’s tone was rough, with sleep or something else, the demon couldn’t tell. He did as he was told, turning to see Jude making himself coffee. The demon waited in silence as Jude moved around the kitchen stiffly, swallowing his pills with a mouthful of his drink as he came over towards the demon. Putting the mug down on the coffee table he sat down painfully and indicated for the demon to push the box over to him, which he did. Digging his nails under the end of the brown tape, Jude methodically tore it off, opening up the flaps. Discarding several sheets of white tissue paper and bubble wrap, he pulled out several plastic wrapped packages, tossing them onto the floor, “Go ahead and open them.” Jude told the demon. The demon knelt down beside the scattered packages even as Jude was pulling out more, and began to open one; quickly and precisely.

Once the plastic was gone, the demon was left with a pair of dark blue trousers in his hands. Without allowing himself to give too much thought to it, the demon focused on Jude’s instruction and opened the other parcels; containing everything from soft, closely woven socks to a grey canvas jacket. The demon’s fingers lingered on the jacket for a moment before he set it aside, folding it neatly to place it on the growing pile. He sat back on heels when he was done. Jude was sat drinking his coffee,

“They’re for you.” Jude said finally and the demon stilled, eyeing the clothes,

“Thank you, sir.” The demon said what he was supposed to. The last few days had left him drained but he forced himself to contain the emotions that stirred in his stomach,

“That’s alright. Go use the shower and get changed, I’ll get us something to eat.”

“Yes sir.” The demon collected the clothes up carefully and carried them through to the bedroom, putting them carefully on top of the chest of drawers before picking out a long sleeved, blue top, underwear, socks and the grey trousers.

He came out of the shower shivering, pulling on the new clothes mechanically. The demon only glanced at the mirror as he was leaving but he was startled by his appearance. At a passing glance, in these clothes, he looked human. But the longer he looked, the more demon he saw; the sharper planes of his face, the angle of his eyes and the colour of his skin - a pale steel-grey – was sickly, ugly. He turned away, old, rank smelling clothes in hand, and moved to the kitchen, though he wasn’t hungry in the slightest.

Jude raised his eyebrows when the demon walked in, telling the demon to leave the clothes in the basket in the bathroom. The demon retraced his steps to do as he was told.

When the demon returned, Jude was sat at the table and the demon slowly did likewise, feeling vaguely uneasy at going against something so ingrained into him. Jude didn’t even seem to notice where the demon sat, his attention on something projected on the table as he ate. The demon hesitated, his hands resting on the table edge, his gaze flickering from Jude’s bowed head to the cereal box.

“Eat, demon.” Jude’s voice made the demon start, the man’s attention staying focused on the table, but he did as directed, chewing compliantly. The demon made himself finish the food and looked up to see Jude looking back at him with an expression on his face the demon couldn’t read. Jude flicked away whatever it was he was reading and stood up, taking his things with him to carry them over to the sink. “I’m taking you to see a med practitioner.” Jude said and the demon blinked, his stomach dropping as a cloud of thoughts fogged up his mind. Jude left to get changed and the demon sat for a moment, staring into space.

The demon was pulling the front door shut when Jude brought his car around from the side of the house. He paused to look at it as Jude stepped out. It was a bulky, grey BMW with high ground clearance and a squared-off front, and the demon compared it with the sleekly spotless Mercedes his previous owner had revered,

“It’s ugly,” Jude said as he moved to close the garage door and the demon realised Jude had seen him looking, “but it’s reliable.”

“Sir.” The demon acknowledged quietly, ducking his head,

“Get in, then.” Jude said as he got back into the driving seat. The demon came forwards slowly, his eyes flicking between the front and back doors. It had always been the back with his previous owner, but Jude had him sit at the dining table, and beside him on the sofa. It was nerve wracking but the demon took a risk and opened the passenger door, though he didn’t climb inside until Jude raised his eyebrows expectantly, looking more impatient than displeased. The demon pulled himself up and closed the door gently, clipping in his seatbelt before lowering his gaze to his lap.

Jude put the vehicle in reverse and they backed out, turning down the rutted track through the trees.

The demon relaxed slightly and allowed himself to look at the interior of the car. It was worn but not unclean,

“Different to your old owner’s car?” Jude asked, astutely guessing the demon’s thoughts. The demon saw Jude glance over at him before returning his eyes to the road,

“Yes sir.” The demon said, turning to look out the window. He’d hated that car. The image of it was scoured into his memory, its black gloss glinting malevolently in the fierce sun of mid-summer on the perfect gravel of his owner’s drive. One of the worse beatings he’d received had been from scratching the paintwork.

“Do you know why we’re going to the med centre?”

“Sir?” The demon swallowed and tried to recall what Jude had said. He cleared his throat, “To check I’m healthy, sir?” He hazarded, unsure what Jude wanted to hear. Jude flicked a glance in his direction,

“Yes, that, but also because of your back.” The demon struggled to process this, and he locked his jaw to keep from speaking, “How old are they?” His scars? The demon stuttered over an answer; he’d never been very good at tracking the passage of time. Today’s date glinted on the dashboard in soft green type and the demon tried to remember the last time he’d seen the date,

“I- I was brought up in my previous owner’s household.” The demon stalled, “It was soon after I turned twelve that- I angered him first.” The demon struggled to wade through the mess of his memories, “The last time was a few weeks, a month perhaps, before I changed ownership.”

“I see.” Jude’s response was short and cold, but the demon was unable to be more specific. He was about to apologise, before he remembered the sharp ‘What for?” he’d received last time he said he was sorry, and he said nothing. “Why did you change ownership?” Jude asked after an extended pause.

“My owner died suddenly from a bleed in his brain.” The demon said, the words bringing back the memory of the bizarre mix of elation and terror he’d felt when he’d heard the news from the panicked household demons. He’d known he wasn’t meant to feel such things when his owner died but the emotions had been there, huge and undeniable,

“An aneurysm.”

“Pardon, sir?” The demon was confused,

“That’s what it’s called.” It took the demon a moment to catch up. A bleed in the brain was called a- whatever Jude had said. The demon saw Jude about to speak the same time he said,

“Yes sir.” He winced. It was never a good idea to speak over them or interrupt. Jude didn’t say anything and they turned out of the woodland and onto a tarmac road before he spoke again,

“Do you have any questions about it?” Questions? What could he say? Will it hurt? How long will it hurt for? Why did you decide to keep me? Why do you find my scars so repulsive? Is it because of your own?

“Would you like me to make lunch for you when we get back?” Jude raised an eyebrow,

“We’re only having soup again,” he said, “All you do is put it in the microwave.” For lack of anything else to say the demon just agreed quietly. He heard Jude sigh and felt a flush of irritation that he had no idea what he’d done wrong this time.

They arrived at the med centre in silence and the demon found himself thinking that Jude was good driver; controlled and precise, though it clearly pained him to be using his knee. The med centre car park was quiet. There was no rule about not bringing demons, but there were house-call doctors and clinics set up specifically for demons, private and realm-run. This wasn’t one of those, but an army med centre, primarily for soldiers like Jude. Since the demon had been issued through the military, he supposed there would be meds here who specialised in demons.

Jude parked the car, ignoring the disabled spaces, and the demon followed him over to the med centre entrance, the air inside stagnant and frigid. Jude directed the demon to sit down whilst he limped over to register.

A woman was sat almost opposite the demon and a sniffling toddler tottered around near her feet with a stuffed toy in one small, clenched fist. The demon could feel the woman glancing over at him warily, even as she interacted with the child, and the demon kept his head down, his hands under his thighs. He knew he appeared threatening; most demons were taller and heavier built than human men, but he was especially large and awkward, and the set of his eyes always appeared wolfish when he looked in the mirror, his smile looking more like a snarl or a grimace.

Something small and soft hit the demon on the leg and he flinched, looking up to see where it had come from – both woman and toddler were watching him with wide eyes – before he looked at the object itself. It was the child’s soft toy, thrown in a fit of tantrum, which now lay crumpled and on its head by the demon’s foot.

The demon bent down hesitantly to retrieve the toy, feeling its alien softness, its black-button eyes and stitched features smiling up at him, before he looked back over at the child’s mother. She was holding her child’s hand firmly, though her eyes were fixed on the demon. He was reminded that the majority of the human population couldn’t afford a demon, saw them only on the screen in reports from the battlefield.

Moving with deliberate slowness, the demon stood and crossed the space between them to silently place the toy on the chair beside the mother, avoiding looking at her as he returned to his seat. Without making it obvious he was looking, they demon saw the mother pick up the toy gingerly before offering it to her daughter. The child rejected it with a stubborn ‘no’, shaking her head. He heard the mother ask unnecessarily quietly,

“What’s the matter?” to which the child loudly and sulkily proclaimed that the ‘funny man’ had touched it. The demon didn’t react but he could feel the woman’s eyes on him and it was several moments before he realised Jude had called him. He got to his feet too fast and blinked away the dizziness before coming silently to Jude’s side. The woman’s eyes tracked him.

“Apparently you need your wrists locked for this,” Jude said before quietly directing the cuffs to close. They clicked together. The demon held his expression forcefully blank, “Room 14,” Jude muttered absently as he set off down the hall and the demon trailed behind him.

The med was a young, soft man, strikingly pale apart from a tea-coloured birthmark that was splattered across the right side of his neck and face. He smiled at Jude and stood to shake his hand,

“Please take a seat, Mr Attaway,” he said. The demon stayed standing. “What is it you’ve come to see me about today?” He asked.

“The demon,” Jude started. The demon noted that Jude didn’t say ‘my demon’,

“You want a general check-up for him?” Jude nodded, “Alright then, ask him to stand over there, please.” The med brought a hand-held scanner out of his desk drawer and waved it over the demon’s body in order to bring up the demon’s medical history on his screen. He looked over it with a slight frown, “History of disobedience, wilfulness and occasional aggression,” the med looked over at Jude, “I presume you were informed?”

“Yes.” Pause, “Though he’s been nothing but obedient with me.” The demon blinked, surprised by Jude’s assessment of his behaviour,

“That’s good,” the med said, “but his previous owner did have him on medication for it up until a couple of years back. Just something you should be aware of.” The demon saw the med glance over at him for the first time and he knew the med was seeing him as something dangerous and unpredictable,

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Jude said, sounding slightly cold. They moved on to the various health checks and the demon allowed himself to be directed and moved around, although the med never touched or ordered him directly, but deferred to Jude.

“He seems perfectly healthy,” the med concluded after finishing listening to his heart, “Although I would like to take a look at his back.” The med looked back at the notes on his screen, “some medical treatment was needed for disciplinary injuries just over three months ago. Although it’s rare, old scars can become infected.” The med must have seen Jude look at the demon’s cuffs, “I would advise just pulling his shirt up at the back. Taking it off is problematic and usually unnecessary.” The demon, standing side on to Jude, vaguely saw Jude get to his feet and move behind the demon. The med stood nearby and the demon held himself stiffly as Jude lifted up the jacket and shirt, causing the demon to hunch forwards somewhat, the cold centre air moving over his exposed skin. He flinched when a plastic finger probed one of his scars,

“Pain?” It took the demon a long moment to realise the med, for the first time, was talking directly to him,

“No sir.” He felt Jude ease his shirt up higher and the demon’s chest constricted slightly,

“Any itching or burning sensations?” The med wanted to know. The demon paused before answering,

“Itching, sometimes sir.”

“Alright.” The demon felt rather than heard the med step back and Jude lowered the shirt, moving back to his chair. The demon realised he was sweating, his heart beating faster than normal, “It looks like everything’s healing well, no cause for concern there.”

“Good.” Jude acknowledged as the med updated his system notes,

“There are a couple of shots he doesn’t seem to have had.”

“What for?”

“Heard of encaptilitis?” Jude grunted,

“Affects the brain.” He said and the med nodded,

“It’s highly contagious amongst demons and can spread to humans. Then there’s the less well-known one; RM. Also infectious - it affects the immune system and is just as deadly.” The demon saw Jude nod and didn’t understand what the man was agreeing to,

“Alright then.” Jude said. The demon watched with his head lowered as the med brought out a small glass jar and two plastic packets, but his brain short circuited in panic when the med opened the plastic to reveal a needle. The demon froze, watching with his eyes blown wide open, nausea rising as his vision became distorted. The med came over towards him and the demon stumbled backwards and kept going until his back hit the wall, the cuffs felt tighter than ever. Jude was on his feet, but he was just a hazy figure. The demon felt ill, he was sweating,

“Easy,” Jude was saying, though the demon could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears. His vision got darker and when the demon reopened his eyes, he was on floor and Jude was crouched beside him. The demon tried to sit up but his stomach disagreed with a painful flip, “No, no, stay there, demon, easy.” Jude was talking to him. The demon closed his eyes for a moment, exhausted, and he felt a prick at his arm. Twisting around, the demon saw the med pull the needle out of his bare arm and he tried to pull away, desperate to growl and kick out and get away, but knowing that if he did so, Jude and the med would never see someone who was desperately scared, but a violent animal. The demon shuddered, feeling Jude’s hands on his shoulders; containing him. Regardless, the demon knew it was too late; whatever had been in that needle was now inside him. He lay limp.

He was allowed to remain still for several minutes whilst the med made some checks, flashing a light in his eye and making him squint, though he didn’t move. Jude moved away after a while, massaging his knee and the med followed him, leaving the demon to slowly, carefully, pull himself up to seated. His skin, hot and flushed, welcomed the feel of the cool wall through his shirt and he tilted his head back, his heartbeat almost back to normal. He was still waiting for the drug to kick in but other than a slight ache in his arm, he couldn’t sense anything. No amplified noises or affected vision, nausea or hallucinations. No strange heaviness of his limbs, as the soldier’s drug had given him. Nothing… abnormal.

He realised Jude was watching him and got unsteadily to his feet, his elbow against the wall for balance,

“What happened?” Jude asked, looking at the demon, though it was the med that answered,

“A phobia of needles, fainting brought on possibly by low blood sugar, or-” Jude interrupted,

“Demon?” The demon brought his gaze up and lowered it,

“I’m sorry sir.” He said, knowing that when he’d struggled to eat the food, Jude had rejected apologies; he’d wanted an explanation. But the demon couldn’t admit that he’d been scared. It wasn’t a good enough reason. Jude scowled irritably,

“I-” he cut himself off, “We’ll talk about this later.” The demon resigned himself,

“Yes sir.” He said. The med breathed out in a frustrated huff, making the demon start,

“Mr Attaway,” he said, seeming to be smarting from Jude’s interruption, “I’m afraid I have other patients to attend to. Your house system will be sent a copy of the results and my conclusions.” Jude turned to him,

“Of course,” he said with an edge to his tone, “Thank you for your time.” Jude turned to leave and the demon followed him, swaying slightly, touching his shoulder to the doorframe as he passed through it. In the hallway, his cuffs unclasped without him hearing Jude’s instruction,

“How are you doing now?” Jude asked, once they were in the car and on their way back,

“Fine, sir.” The demon responded. Jude was silent, seeming to be chewing on his next words,

“I should have clarified to you what was happening.” Jude said after a long while, which seemed like an apology to the demon’s ears. Yet again, the demon was left reeling, unable to understand,

“Sir.” He said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He saw Jude glance over at him before returning his eyes to the roads, flicking on the windscreen wipers as the rain started.

Chapter Text

Jude’s POV

Jude’s parents arrived unannounced later in the week, accompanied by Forest.

“Sorry,” He said, nudging Jude’s door open wider, “Couldn’t keep them away.”

“Mother.” Jude acknowledged the taut, narrow woman as she crossed the threshold,

“Jude.” She responded. Jude’s father, a similarly slender but hunched man followed his wife inside, clasping Jude’s shoulder briefly as he passed. Forest kicked the door shut and Jude watched as his mother scrutinised his home, “Your brother bought this place for you, did he?” She asked, knowing full well that that was the case,

“Yes.” Jude said stiffly, “A drink, dad? Forest?”

“Coffee would be excellent.” Forest said, cordially enough,

“What about that demon?” His mother cut in and Jude shot a scowl in Forest’s direction. Forest shrugged, “Why isn’t she making the drinks?” Forest smirked at their mother’s mistake and Jude scowl deepened. He corrected his mother quietly,

“The demon is a male, and I am perfectly capable of making drinks. I am not an invalid.” His mother pointedly didn’t respond, sitting down on the sofa,

“Coffee would be lovely, Jude,” His father said, taking a seat beside his wife, “Thank you.”

The demon came into the kitchen as Jude was carrying the mugs over to the low table and he picked up the two mugs that Jude couldn’t carry, handing one to Jude as he sat down and offering the other to Jude’s mother. She didn’t take the mug, but instead grasped the demon's wrist, pulling him towards her. It was only the demon’s quick reaction that stopped him from spilling the coffee and he dropped to one knee in front of her, his wrist still firmly in her grip.

Once he was on her level, she accepted the coffee as if nothing had happened, though her attention was on the silver cuffs around the demon’s wrists. The demon stood smoothly, moving to Jude’s side, lowering his head. Jude bristled at the poisonous glares his mother was levelling at the demon but the demon didn’t seem to have even noticed.

“This is the filth you’ve been sent, then. After everything we went through they might have had the decency to recompense us properly. A demon!” Her lip curled, “It’s an insult.”

“Is he safe, Jude?” His father wanted to know, eying the demon warily, though the male’s posture spoke of pliant submission,

“Of course it’s not safe!” His mother snapped, “It’s a violent brute!” Jude stood abruptly and the demon took a step back, all of them pausing to watch Jude,

“He’s safe.” Jude said with quiet finality, “We won’t discuss this any longer.” The demon hovered and Jude moved away to tip his coffee down the sink, his hand moving to his knee. Standing so quickly had strained his knee and it began to throb in earnest,

“You’re not still in pain?” His mother said sharply, turned around to watch him,

“Sometimes.” Jude said, guarded. His mother raised her eyebrows,

“I watched a documentary on psychosomatic injuries from trauma. It happens when your mind creates physical pain.” She said, watching him. Jude kept his expression forcefully blank, leaning back against the kitchen counter, “It was very informative.”

“I was shot in the knee.” Jude’s response was curt.

“The body and the mind are interconnected,” she said, “closely linked.” Jude knew she was digging for a response from him. He said nothing. “You know how challenging it was for us when you had your difficulties.” Jude moved reluctantly away from the counter to sit down again, forcefully ignoring his mother’s jibes. She tried a different tact, “I suppose you requested a male specifically.” Jude tensed at her words, “Stronger. More useful.” She sipped her coffee. The quiet was deafening. Jude saw his father put a hand on his wife’s arm and her façade of calm broke as she shook him off, “Don’t placate me!” She snapped, “How am I meant to talk to my son with that repulsive creature watching over us?” Jude tried to make himself to relax and he shifted position before realising he was tapping his finger. He stopped,

“I think he’s quite striking.” Forest said lightly and both Jude and their mother turned to glare at him. Jude looked away quickly, dropping his mother’s gaze. He found it exasperating that she came to see all the way over here to see him – and it was her who spearheaded these visits, not his father – and then did everything in her power to make him hate her. “Really mother, I would have thought you’d appreciate those cheekbones more, what with you swooning over celebrities like you do.” His mother smiled weakly and Jude felt a slight pain in his stomach that he couldn’t make her smile like that anymore. It passed quickly. “I’d tell Jude to get him to take off his shirt but I fear we’d scandalize pops and anyway Jude is far too possessive.”

“He was terrible as sharing when you were children.” Their father said, “Once something was his, nobody was allowed to touch it.” He laughed quietly, “You were always stubborn.”

“You don’t know how right you are, dad,” Forest said, his tone painfully cheery, “he wouldn’t let me lay a finger on the creature, even to admire him!” Something tightened in Jude’s stomach,

“I don’t know why on earth you’d want to, dear.” His mother remarked coolly, “Its skin looks disgustingly clammy to me. It’s the colour of gone-off milk.”

“I think I’d be more worried about him nipping my fingers.” Jude’s father said, smiling. Jude’s mind was somewhere else. The memory of the demon, stricken with terror on the floor of the med centre, the look of resignation when the med had put that needle in him, haunted Jude. Even then, the demon had been non-violent, hadn’t even struggled.

Jude noticed suddenly that the demon had dropped down to kneel at Jude’s side, half hidden behind Jude’s chair. Jude struggled to control himself around his family but the demon was like a statue.

“Are you alright, Jude?” His father’s voice made him start,

“Fine.” Jude said shortly,

“Not going to have one of your ‘episodes’?” His mother said with a false smile. Jude pretended she hadn’t spoken. “And I wonder how you trust that beast,” she carried on “not to put a steak knife in you when you’re a mess on the floor?” Jude tried to mimic the demon’s stillness but he couldn’t quite manage it.

“You haven’t had one in months, have you?” Forest broke in, and for once Jude was grateful, “Barely gets them at all anymore.”

“That’s great news.” His father said, offering Jude a genuine smile. Jude couldn’t summon one in return. His mother had found his attacks embarrassing, shameful; she’d walked off, once, when he’d had one in a crowded store, leaving him to recover amongst strangers.

Jude’s father and Forest continued with their conversation, light and easy, whilst Jude and his mother sat in a harsh silence. She finished her coffee and disappeared off to go the bathroom. Jude guessed she’d go and look at his other rooms, too. Not that there was much to see. His office was locked and there was very little that was personal in the bedroom.

“I’m sorry about your mother.” Jude’s father said gently, once she was out of the room, “She…” He trailed off. Jude shrugged, though he saw the way his father’s shoulders slumped and felt a strong sense of regret that they had lost the relationship they’d once had, “We’ll be off, soon, Jude. Leave you in peace.” Jude nodded, fully aware that his parents would leave only when his mother was good and ready to do so.

As it was, it was over two hours before Jude’s mother stood and announce that they were leaving, giving no reason for her sudden decision.

Forest let their parents go on ahead and paused to put an arm around Jude’s shoulders,

“You alright there, baby brother?” He asked,

“I’m the older one.” Jude protested, though privately he felt that their roles had been reversed when he’d come back from the war.

“You may be older but I’m more good-looking.” Forest grinned, “I take it things have worked out with the demon?” Jude nodded reluctantly and Forest wiggled his eyebrows, “I don’t need the gory details but I bet he’s good in bed, right?” Jude laughed wearily and shrugged Forest’s arm off his shoulder, “Take it easy, Judy,” Forest said, heading for the door, “I’ll try not to come back too soon.”

“You do that.” Jude agreed, utterly relieved when he heard the door finally close.

The demon was still kneeling by Jude’s chair. He hadn’t moved in all the time Jude’s parents had been here. Jude went over to him,

“Are you alright to stand up?” He asked, holding on to the demon’s arm when the demon did come to his feet. He was surprisingly steady, though Jude caught the demon’s wince, “Hungry, demon?” Jude said, limping over to the kitchen to pull a pizza out of the freezer, “Because I’m starving.” The demon agreed quietly and once the pizza was in the oven, Jude turned to study the demon. He seemed more reserved that usual and Jude thought darkly that it was probably something his mother had said,

“Don’t listen to my mother,” Jude said, though he was frequently unable to follow his own advice, “She’s got an incredible talent for working out what hurts most. That doesn’t make it true.”

“Sir.” The demon was monosyllabic as they ate and Jude didn’t push it.

…

It was morning and Jude lay in bed on his side, listening as the bedroom door was opened quietly. He opened his eyes and saw the demon’s bare feet pad inside. He looked up, seeing the demon pause before he put the drink down by Jude’s side. The demon was fully dressed, looking immaculate; his jaw was closely shaved, his posture perfect and his expression was that of a doll.

Jude groaned and rolled over, burying his head in the pillow in a show of childish denial,

“Sir?” The demon asked, his low voice cautious, “Are you in pain?” For once, Jude wasn’t and he muttered a negative, hearing the demon leaving as quietly as he came in. Jude sighed and dragged himself, looking out the window at the milky morning light. Jude checked his watch and sighed, the physio would be here soon and he wasn’t even out of bed. Swinging his legs over, Jude probed his scarred knee gingerly but it seemed to be co-operating. Taking his drink through with him to the kitchen, Jude saw the breakfast things neatly put out, but decided he wanted toast. The demon was sat at the table, spoon halfway to his mouth. He put it down when Jude came in.

The toast came up just as the door chimes went and Jude reluctantly went to let the physio in, telling the demon he could have the toast if he wanted.

The session lasted longer than usual, because his knee had stood up to more strain than Jude had come to expect of it. The physio seemed pleased with him by the end, but Jude’s empty stomach was making him short-tempered and the physio simply patted Jude’s shoulder and quietly saw himself out.

Jude had seen the demon moving around the kitchen as the physio had been directing his movements but he hadn’t thought much of it. There was a plate of toast left out, though, hot and fresh and dressed in butter; Jude’s normal preference. Jude, scowling slightly, picked it up and strode over to the bedroom, grimacing as his knee protested. The bedroom was empty and Jude went to knock on the bathroom door. The door rolled open and Jude found his gaze drawn inside before he could think better of it.

The bright, white lighting in the bathroom illuminated the demon’s semi-clad form, stood at the sink, twisted around to look at his back in the mirror. He looked over at Jude before falling seamlessly to his knees.

Jude was frozen in place for a long moment,

“Stand up, demon.” He managed finally, “Why didn’t you lock the door?” The demon got slowly, gracefully to his feet before answering hesitantly,

“I- It was what my previous owner preferred, sir,” Jude saw the demon cringe slightly but he couldn’t tell whether it was Jude’s behalf or the demon’s own, “I’m sorry to have displeased you, sir.” The demon’s submission left Jude struggling to know what to say,

“You didn’t displease me,” He said slowly, “I thought you’d want your privacy, though.” The demon tensed visibly but his voice was customarily flat,

“Sir.” Neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Jude lifted the plate of toast, now going cold,

“Is this for me?” He demanded. The demon nodded, keeping his head down,

“Yes sir.” He said, refusing to look at Jude. Jude muttered a half-hearted response and stepped back, heat coming into his cheeks as he pulled the door closed behind him. He’d lost his appetite but he went to the kitchen and ate the toast anyway, his mind replaying the demon’s wide-eyed look. It only struck him now to wonder what the demon had been doing.

After a few minutes, the demon stepped into the kitchen and Jude asked him. The demon paused, standing motionless,

“I was looking at my scars, sir.” The demon said quietly.

“Why?” Jude hated looking at his own. The demon was hesitant to answer, on edge,

“They felt tight, sir.” Jude nodded slowly, leaving his plate in the sink as he waved the demon to follow him to the bedroom,

“Sit on the bed.” He said, moving into the bathroom to search the cupboards for his hydrocortisone cream, “Shirt off.” He directed. The demon did as he told wordlessly but Jude paused when he saw how rigidly the demon was sat, he put his hand on the demon’s shoulder, “The cream should help with the tight feeling.” He said. The demon acknowledged him quietly and some of the tension seemed to bleed out of him.

A muscle twitched in Jude’s jaw as he focused back on the demon’s back. Someone had really taken their time on working the demon over. Jude realised the demon was tensing up again and he gently started applying the cream, pretending not to see how the demon flinched when he first made contact. Jude worked as he did with his own knee but the demon had a lot more scar tissue than he did and it took several minutes before Jude was satisfied. He stood up when he was finished,

“You’re done.” He said brusquely and the demon quietly thanked him and shrugged on his shirt. He paused, turning back to face Jude, though he kept his eyes down,

“Is there anything you’d like me to do, sir?” He asked. Jude, unnerved, shook his head and the demon moved away, buttoning his shirt with slow precision.

“Are you unhappy here?” The question seemed to take the demon by surprise and his head lifted slightly, though he still didn’t look at Jude,

“No sir.” He said. Jude was silent for a moment,

“So, you’d like to stay?” The demon did look up then, panic in his eyes,

“Sir, I want whatever you want,” he said in his usual flat tone, though the pleading note to his words betrayed him, “I can be good for you, better.” Jude regarded the demon. Something had clearly scared him,

“Were the military staff cruel to you?” He asked. The demon shook his head, his eyes on the floor,

“No sir.” He said. He’d finished with his shirt and now stood motionless. Every time Jude spoke to the demon, it felt to Jude as if he were interrogating the male. And it unnerved Jude how little the demon moved; he never fidgeted or make any movements unless they served to achieve a purpose.

“You’re afraid of your previous owner?” Jude tried and the demon was silent for several seconds, “What are you thinking, demon?” Jude pressed, watching the male. There was little enough to see in the demon’s expression but whenever the demon didn’t reply, he seemed to be conflicted. Still, the majority of the demon’s words reeked of truthfulness, even if it often seemed to be honesty by avoidance,

“I don’t know what you want to hear, sir.” The demon said, so quietly Jude wasn’t sure he’d heard,

“You must have been afraid of him,” Jude replied softly, his eyes never leaving the demon’s face, “He brutalised you when you were only a child.” Jude realised he hated a man he had never seen or spoken to,

“It was discipline.” The demon’s words were firm but haunted and for once there wasn’t a ‘sir’ tacked on the end.

“It was abuse.” Jude countered, running a hand through his hair.

“Sir.” The demon appeared to close himself off and Jude felt like slamming his fist into the wall, he was so frustrated. The demon wouldn’t respond, barely seeming willing to admit he ever had opinions belonging to a person, even on things like food. For several days after he arrived, he would eat only whatever Jude was eating for breakfast and no more or less than Jude had taken for himself. Every word, every action seemed to have to be filtered past an ingrained wall that said ‘I exist to serve’ and anything that disagreed with that notion stayed locked inside the demon’s skull. Except this morning, when Jude found the demon in the bathroom. Jude reasoned that the demon’s scars must have been paining him badly for him to decide to do something for himself, even if was just to look at them in the mirror.

Jude put a hand over his eyes for a moment, tired. He felt a long way out of his depth. Being around the demon wore on him; every time he saw the male’s grey skin there was a part of him left over from his soldier’s training, from the war, that saw the demon as The Enemy. A Threat. Danger.

“Sir?” The demon’s tone was carefully inquiring.

“I’ve got work to do,” Jude snapped, “Can you bring me some coffee in an hour?” The demon agreed too quickly and Jude tried to ignore it, finding respite in the quiet of his office.

Jude found that he had a queried report to catch up with and a couple of recorded conversations with their suppliers which one of the company’s manager had sent him. He was invited to visit one of the supplier factories but he declined.

The day slipped away and Jude barely noticed the demon bringing him coffee at regular intervals through the afternoon.

At dinner, Jude was pleased to hear that the demon had helped himself to lunch, even if it had only been a sandwich. The demon had seemed nervous when Jude had asked but Jude’s soft smile seemed to reassure him somewhat and they ate the simple meat, veg and potatoes Jude had made in a companionable silence.

The physical exertion of his physio session had left Jude tired and he went to bed early, shifting restlessly for some time. The demon lay motionless beside him and it always made Jude feel vaguely guilty when he turned over and disturbed the stillness. Jude eventually drifted into sleep.

….

Demon’s POV

The demon started awake. He was barely awake and the change in light made him feel disorientated. When he had fallen asleep the dark had been loose and dusky, now, it was heavy and dense.

The demon could feel Jude twitching beside him; lost in his nightmares and muttering uneasily, and he tensed up when he realised how close they’d moved during the night; Jude was lying almost immediately behind the demon, so close that the demon could feel the man’s breath on the back of his neck. The demon needed the bathroom and he cautiously slid himself off the bed, moving quietly over to the door. The house was cold and empty at night, a sleeping husk of a home and the skin on the demon’s bare arms tingled.

As he was returning to the bedroom, the demon ran his hand along the wall of the corridor, his fingers lingering on the edge of the doorframe, listening to Jude moving restlessly in his sleep. The demon came back inside with the feeling that he was doing something illicit; stealing inside a man’s bedroom like a malevolent stranger. Skirting the bed, the demon reached out to feel for the edge of the mattress in the dark. He found it and eased himself down, carefully lifting up his legs. His bare foot knocked Jude’s shin under the covers and Jude jolted awake, his movement sending shock waves across the mattress. The demon had retracted his foot instantly but Jude kicked out at him with a half-coherent yell. Though Jude’s foot only glanced off the demon’s thigh, the demon withdrew hurriedly, dropping onto the floor, his eyes wide open though he could barely see a thing. The demon was on his knees but Jude still came after him, throwing his bodyweight at the demon, throwing him backwards. The demon’s head hit the floor with a dull thud and he struggled to clamp down on any noise of pain as he tried to pull himself away. Jude suddenly got a hold on his neck, his fingers agonisingly tight under the demon’s jaw, and he dragged the demon up to sitting, crushing the demon’s windpipe. The demon hoarsely repeated ‘sir, sir, sir’ until he ran out of breath, hands clenching at his sides.

The pressure disappeared abruptly and the demon fell back in a fit of harsh, dry coughing which wracked his frame and left his tender throat aching. He didn’t hear the command but the lights slowly lifted and the demon blinked at Jude.

Jude was sat opposite, his hands shaking on his thighs, staring at the demon in horror. He swore huskily, reaching a hand out towards the demon but stopping short when the demon flinched away. Berating himself tiredly, the demon clumsily came forward until he was within reaching distance, but Jude didn’t try to touch him again.

After a long moment of tense inaction, Jude moved to get unsteadily to his feet, limping off his left knee, muttering about getting some ice as he moved, swaying, away.

The demon was motionless for several seconds after Jude left but the shock gave way and the demon began to tremble, pressing his forehead to the edge of the bed as he tried to stay quiet, great, heaving sobs making him convulse. He vaguely heard Jude return but he couldn’t make himself stop and only buried his face in the bed covers, too wretched to think about being scared and yet expecting to be struck none the less.

“Christ.” Jude’s hoarse mutter pulled him back and the demon took a deep, wet breath, dragging his arm across his face and wincing at the mess his tears had made of the bed. He dried his face best as he was able with his hands before turning around, keeping his head down, his hands on his thighs and his back straight. He waited for Jude’s reaction without trying to anticipate it; the man was entirely unpredictable.

The demon watched Jude crouch down beside him silently, holding out a bag of ice wrapped in a towel. The demon took it hesitantly, bringing it to his bruised neck and holding it gingerly against his heated skin,

“Are you dizzy?” Jude asked, “Having trouble breathing?” The demon croaked out a faint ‘no sir’ and Jude quieted. After a few minutes, Jude stood, “I’ll get you something to drink.” He said and the demon nodded in acknowledgment.

Jude brought him the drink – hot tea – before moving to the sliding wardrobes that lay against the right wall, the floor to ceiling wood a honeyed brown. Jude brought out blankets,

“I’ll sleep in the sitting room.” He said gently and the demon said ‘sir’ quietly in acknowledgment. Jude left the demon alone.

Exhausted, the demon dimmed the lights and fell into the too-big bed, staying on his side of the mattress, in case Jude decided to return in the night. The demon struggled to crush the voice in his head that said he hoped Jude wouldn’t. As he lay in the empty bed, the ache in his neck was slowly forgotten and the demon passed into a coma-like, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Demon’s POV

The cleaner came the next morning. The demon was up and awake later than usual but still before Jude and he jumped, in the middle of making coffee, when the door chimes went. He put the milk back in the fridge and moved towards the door, only to see Jude stumble up from the sofa looking half-asleep. He stopped short. Jude turned to look at the demon and his eyes widened with a grimace, the door chimes ringing again.

“Shit,” Jude said, his eyes on the demon’s neck, “Just go and sit over there.” He pointed at the dining room table and the demon hesitantly took a seat, bringing a hand up to probe the bruises on his neck. “Louisa,” Jude greeted a woman who bustled into the house, bringing with her a bucket of cleaning products, a mop and a large canvas shopping bag over the shoulder. She wore a plain, clean pair of jeans and an ill-fitting dark-blue blouse, her hair tied up in a pony-tail, unusually long and striped through attractively with silvery-grey. Her gaze alighted immediately on the demon and he resisted the urge to adjust his position, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He kept his head well down to hide his neck, though he was privately glad the visitor was only staff, and not someone Jude was trying to impress,

“A demon, Jude,” The woman, Louisa, said in an unexpectedly low voice, “that’s new.”

“Yes, Louisa, before you start yelling at me-”

“Why would I yell at you?” She turned on him, eyebrows raised, and Jude winced. Thoughts spun around the demon’s head; what was the relationship between these two? His anxiety doubled at their familial tone, clearly Louisa was someone to Jude, even if she was just a friend,

“He’s got some bruises on his neck but-”

“He got them before he came?” Louisa guessed, putting her things down and coming over to the demon. He carefully didn’t look at her, didn’t raise his head. He didn’t know how to act,

“No,” Jude said, sounding uncomfortable, “I never intended to hurt him, it was night time and-” Louisa’s expression very quickly tightened into a frown as she brought a hand to the demon’s cheek and he flinched,

“Sweetheart, can you just lift your head for me please?” The demon knew it wasn’t a request and, his eyes on Jude, looking for instruction, assurance, he let Louisa ease his chin up. From her expression, the demon thought that she was trying hard to contain her anger at something, “Explain, then Jude.” She said firmly, “I’m listening.” Jude looked too concerned about Louisa’s apparent anger for the pair of them to just be friends. The demon remembered how strained things had been with Jude’s mother and wondered whether Louisa, who was a similar age, might have stepped into the role,

“I- Alright, last night, I had a nightmare and I woke suddenly. And I didn’t know where I was, really, and the demon was there and he was too close to me and I shoved him,” Jude dropped eye contact with Louisa, “and then I had my hands on his throat and god, I didn’t mean to, I- thought I was back in Gava and I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Louisa was still frowning but it wasn’t anger, it was concern,

“Jude, I understand, I know you didn’t mean to.” She rubbed Jude’s shoulder in an easy gesture of comfort, “Does he need medical treatment?” The demon’s gaze flickered between them uncertainly and Louisa turned to him with a gentle smile, “I’m sorry, I’m being very rude, I’m Louisa Holt.” The demon nodded and carefully shook her hand when she offered it, as he’d seen humans do, though he’d never been called upon to do it before. He pressed her hand only gently; her fingers almost swallowed up in his hold,

“Yes ma’am.” He said.

“And your name?” She prompted and the demon glanced over at Jude for guidance. He was watching them, looking tired.

“Demon 538111, ma’am.” The demon said, his sore throat twinging as he swallowed, his mouth dry. Louisa didn’t seem to like his answer,

“No other name?” The demon looked again to Jude, almost pleadingly, but Jude didn’t offer any direction,

“I’ve been called many things, ma’am.” He said slowly, quietly, unsure what she wanted. Jude seemed to focus then and the demon felt his skin beginning to feel hot and uncomfortable with both pairs of eyes on him,

“Yes?” Louisa seemed pleased, “And what were they? What can I call you, hm?” The demon swallowed again, his eyes on his lap,

“I’ve been called pet, demon, whore, brute, freak, creature, sweetie, ugly and beast, but I will respond to whatever you wish to call me, ma’am.” Louisa was looking at the demon with an expression the demon would best call pity. It made him uneasy.

“Thank you for telling me, sweetheart.” She said before sighing quietly, “How long have you been here?” She asked, seeming to be changing tact. The demon didn’t know what she was driving at, what she wanted to hear. As a mother-figure, was it that she was worried about Jude?

“I’m afraid I’m not exactly sure, ma’am. A little over a week, perhaps.” She nodded and didn’t seem to mind his being vague. The demon relaxed somewhat. He didn’t think Louisa was an immediate threat, but she did seem to hold sway with Jude. The demon decided that it was crucial he showed her that he wasn’t a threat, to her or Jude or anybody, despite his brutish appearance, “Can I get you some coffee, ma’am, sir?” Louisa nodded quickly with a small smile that the demon didn’t believe for a moment. Jude seemed slightly dazed and he didn’t respond, “Coffee, sir?” The demon repeated gently. Jude grunted,

“Yes, sure.” He said, before standing up suddenly, “I need to get dressed.” He left quickly, and the demon stood motionless for a moment before going to make Louisa a drink, and finish making his own, which had been left abandoned on the side,

“Have you eaten yet?” Louisa asked, moving over to her shopping bag.

“No, ma’am.” He said and then added, “I’m usually awake earlier, ma’am, but I’m afraid I was late up this morning.”

“I think that’s understandable.” Louisa said and the demon stilled a moment, before continuing to make drinks,

“Would you like milk and sugar, ma’am?”

“Please drop the ‘ma’am’,” Louisa said, “Call me Louisa. And I take it black with one sugar.” The demon did as instructed, “Are you happy here?” Louisa asked, “Does Jude treat you well?” Her eyes flickered over the demon’s bruises then and she winced minutely. The demon went over to her and put her mug down on the side,

“Yes, he treats me very well, Louisa.” He said quietly, a little stiff.

“He works too much,” Louisa said, looking past the demon now, “he doesn’t tell me even a fraction of what he’s thinking, and he hides things when he thinks it will hurt me to know. He sleeps badly, he hates letting other people help him and he doesn’t get on with his parents.” She paused, to meet the demon’s eye, “But he’s a good person.” Louisa looked at the demon almost beseechingly, “He means well, even if he doesn’t show it very much, or very well.” She chuckled quietly, though she looked sad. She brought out a paper bag and put what looked like pastries into the oven on a tray, “Would you mind if I stayed for breakfast?”

“With respect, that’s entirely up to Jude, m- Louisa.” He used the exact same tone for ‘Louisa’ as he had for ‘ma’am’, even as he stumbled over the words, running Louisa’s assessment of Jude through his head. It seemed accurate, as far as the demon was able to tell in what was a relatively short amount of time. But then men, soft and gentle with their wives and children as a life-long collector handling a piece of exquisite, ancient glass, could be anything but with an ugly creature under their power, alone in a small, locked room. Louisa patted him on the shoulder as she brushed past, picking up cutlery,

“You live here too.” She said, “I think you ought to at least be asked, even if I plan on staying until I’ve extracted all the information I want out of the pair of you.” The demon stuttered over a stiff ‘as you wish, Louisa’ which seemed to be amuse her. Her words made him apprehensive but he contained it, helping Louisa fetch the things for breakfast and ready the table.

Jude came out of the bathroom a short while later, just as Louisa had begun to get impatient, saying that the croissants would burn.

“How’s work then?” Louisa asked Jude as they were eating, the demon handling the crumbly pastry carefully, unsure how to best eat it. Once he did put it in his mouth however, he moaned at the taste; the sweet, soft, buttery flakiness was heavenly. He froze when he realised how audible his reaction had been and glanced up. Louisa and Jude were both looking at him and he flushed, swallowing the delicious flakes of pastry too fast,

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, but a smirk was twitching at the edges of Jude’s lips and Louisa was smiling openly,

“Never had one of those?” She asked. The demon shook his head,

“No ma’am,” he said, and then corrected himself, “Louisa. Thank you.” Jude looked vaguely surprised and the demon glanced at him nervously. Louisa patted Jude’s hand,

“I asked him to drop the ma’am.” She said, “So stop with your sour face.”

“I wasn’t-”

“You were.” Louisa’s words were light and Jude smiled,

“Okay.” It was odd, the demon thought, seeing Jude content like this. He was unhappy and tense around his parents and Forest seemed to make him irritable. Around the demon he was just wary, and cold. The demon hung onto every word Louisa said, trying to understand why Jude seemed engaged and interested when she spoke. Why he smiled. Jude left after a while, going to work in the basement; though what he did down there, the demon didn’t know. Louisa had started cleaning. She’d had the vacuum on and was taking a break to finish the coffee the demon had made her when she said,

“Are you alright, sweetie? You haven’t said a word.” It took the demon several seconds to realise Louisa was talking to him and he twisted around to face her, dropping the plate he’d been washing into the sink with a clatter, “Sorry,” she said, “Did I make you jump?”

“I- a little, ma- Louisa. I’m sorry, I didn’t know- I-” The demon couldn’t say what he wanted to so he just fell silent, dropping eye contact to the floor. Louisa came over to him slowly and the demon tensed slightly before forcing himself to relax,

“Can I hug you?” The question took the demon several seconds to process,

“As you wish, Louisa.” He said and Louisa gave him a frown, making him cringe. Why was he always saying the wrong thing?

“If you say ‘yes’,” she said, very carefully, “then that’s okay and I’ll just put my arms around you for a short while. If you say ‘no’ then that’s okay and we’ll just talk about something else.” The demon was silent for a long time,

“No.” He said, very quietly, trying to keep his eyes on the floor but finding his gaze pulled up in glances to see how Louisa would react,

“That’s okay.” She said, sounding sad but not angry; her voice wasn’t tight and there was no frown on her face. She took a small step away from him and the space allowed the demon to relax a little, “That was brave, you know.” She said, and god she spoke so gently to him. It made the demon want to run away. He just, he didn’t understand and it was painful,

“Can I do anything for you, Louisa?” He asked finally, hating how his voice broke on her name,

“No, I don’t think so.” She looked surprised and disappointed but the demon couldn’t face her kindness. He turned back to the dishes and focused on cleaning them meticulously, getting them absolutely clean. It was one thing he could do right, one of the only jobs he’d done here. There was a need in him to be useful, to do things, and he didn’t know if it was Matt, his previous owner, or if it was him. He didn’t know if there was any of him that wasn’t Matt. Why did Matt have to go and die? Why wouldn’t Jude just make sense? “You’re crying,” It was Louisa and the demon just wanted to push her away, wanted to tell her to leave him alone, like Matt’s wife did when they were fighting, like little Alex, Matt’s son, had done when he was finished playing with the demon and wanted the demon to leave. But he couldn’t, because he wasn’t human, “Sweetheart, easy, you’re okay, just leave those.” The demon responded to the order and dried his damp hands on the towel, “What do you need?” She asked, “What can I do?”

“I’m fine, ma’am,” the demon said and his voice was steady, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” the way her hands moved towards him made it clear she wanted to touch him and because he didn’t know what else to do, the demon moved towards her. She smiled, full and bright and the demon felt a gush of relief that he’d finally pleased someone. He saw her moving to put her hand on his arm and forcibly stopped himself flinching, “Is this okay?” She asked, then, sounding slightly anxious. The demon nodded, because she hadn’t got angry yet and that was good,

“Yes, Louisa.” He said,

“What’s the matter? What happened?” Jude came in suddenly and the demon didn’t hear him coming. He caught a glimpse of Jude standing frozen, a mug in his hand, before he slid straight to the floor. There was a stunned silence. Water was still dripping from his eyes on to the floor and he tried to stop. Something was tight in his stomach and he felt sick. He hated always feeling slightly scared. At Matt’s there was breaks when he knew he was being useful and while Matt’s violence sometimes took his off-guard, there were other demons looking out for him. There were people to return to and eat dinner with, and they’d be in the room with him when he slept. He hadn’t realised until Louisa came, just how much Jude’s coldness affected him; how living with just his owner would wear him down so much, “What am I doing wrong?” The demon stilled at Jude’s words, playing them back in his head, even as Louisa went to sooth Jude, saying that the demon was under a lot of stress, that it wasn’t Jude’s fault. And it wasn’t; it was the demon’s fault. This was his guilt speaking, for not being useful enough, for not pleasing Jude.

There was silence and the demon wished he could simply sink into the ground. Wished, even, that Jude would beat him or yell at him or do anything but be cold, “I know you don’t want me, sir-” The demon broke off. He had no right to demand things from Jude. He was meant to be whatever Jude wanted and if Jude wanted him to do the washing up and occasionally make him coffee and just disappear the rest of the time, then god, the demon would do whatever he could to make that happen. When it became clear that Jude didn’t know what to say, the demon got back to his feet, glancing at Jude just once before turning back to the sink. He took up a dinner knife and, running a sponge alone its blunt edge, dipped it in the sudsy water. The water was slightly cool so he turned on the hot tap and added a little more soap.

“Demon.” It was Jude. The demon turned silently.

“Sir.” He acknowledged quietly.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Is there something else you’d prefer me to do, sir?” The demon could feel Laura staring at him and more than anything, that made him feel like a freak, like the monster that made fear flicker in the eyes of the mother and child sat in the Army med centre. He tried to ignore her,

“No,” Jude said, “god it’s too early for this shit.” The demon didn’t respond, “If your other owner wasn’t dead,” Jude said suddenly, “I’d kill him.” The demon’s focus became sharp and he could imagine it; Jude, taller than Matt and tauter – though Matt was strong in his own way, thickset and heavy – going up to Matt and slamming him in the face, staggering with his bad leg, but knocking Matt back before going in to put his hands under Matt’s jaw. Maybe it was Jude’s hands around the demon’s throat or maybe it was the demon’s hands around Matt’s, but it didn’t matter because it would never happen,

“Sweetie, you’ve gone pale.” Louisa sounded concerned and the demon swallowed thickly, finding his throat sore but free of heavy hands, “Does your throat hurt?” The demon realised his hand had unconsciously come up to his neck and he dropped it. He said nothing; unwilling to lie, but it didn’t hurt enough to be worth accepting help. Louisa looked troubled and the demon had the feeling she saw right through him but chose not to call him on it.

“Demon-” Jude stepped forwards like he wanted to say something but the demon – and maybe he did it intentional because the demon didn’t want Jude saying more things he couldn’t comprehend, and maybe it was just ingrained behaviour – flinched back, and that pulled Jude up short, “I see- I see what you think of me.” Jude said turning to walk away, “I’ll- be around.”

“Jude-” Jude turned to look at Louisa,

“Take him with you.” He said, firm, “Please.” A heavy, thick pause,

“Alright, okay, but Jude-” Louisa broke off like she didn’t know what to say and Jude walked away. The small click of his office door was excruciating.

The demon felt his chest tighten with a crushing sense of failure, but he forced it out. He had to be what Jude wanted. Jude wanted him gone and so he would go quietly. He would.

“Ma’am, if you don’t mind, I’ll fetch some clothes.” Louisa squeezed him lightly on the arm and the demon clenched a muscle in his jaw, don’t show me kindness, he pleaded silently, not now. She nodded,

“Alright sweetheart. My car’s outside, I’ll see you in a minute okay? It’s a bit of a drive.” The demon mumbled his assent and Louisa picked up her cleaning things and went away. The demon took a plastic bag from the kitchen and put some of the carefully folded clothes Jude had given him into it- it had been almost a week ago now, he thought, when he got them. The demon sighed and tried to make himself move faster, heading outside to climb into the back on Louisa’s car. She didn’t say anything, though there was a worried furrow between her eyebrows when she glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. The car pulled away and as the demon didn’t take his eyes off his knees, he didn’t know if Jude looked out the window of his study, following the path of the car down away from the house.

Chapter Text

Jude’s POV

The house system disturbed Jude in his office. It announced that Louisa had sent him the following message, before her voice came over the speakers. The message was to the point – she was fine and the demon had settled in well over the last few days and she hoped to speak to him again soon – but it was the worry evident in her tone, straight-forward yet warm, that hit home for Jude. He pushed his chair back from his desk as the message ended and sighed. His office screen dimmed and the general lights lifted. He glanced out the window to see the glass reflecting back at him like a mirror, the dark outside was so complete. He hadn’t realised it was late. He checked his wrist, the action prompting the time to be projected onto his skin from the ceiling; half nine. Jude rubbed his forehead and stood up, wincing at the creak in his joints and particularly his knee. Dinner, right; his stomach agreeing with a long-suffering rumble and Jude got to up make something. He ate a plate of slightly undercooked pasta and pesto in front of the screen, telling the house system to put something on. It chose something in a genre he often watched; crime, but Jude couldn’t stomach the violence this late in the evening,

“Next. Next. Next.” Nothing was on and Jude gave up, standing up with a wince at his knee. He lay in bed and felt weary, and alone, so he climbed out from under of the barely-warm covers and pulled on some jeans and headed out.

He didn’t know really where he was going as he bounced along the rutted drive but he kept going anyway. It wasn’t too late into the evening just yet. He drove for a long time.

“Hi.”

“Jude!” Louisa stepped down the step wearing a dressing gown. She pulled him to her to hug him tight and Jude relaxed for just a moment, “You came to see me!” Her happy surprise made guilt sit in his throat like syrup but Jude just nodded and came inside when she welcomed him in. Louisa lived alone, her husband Matthew had died before Jude even knew her, though of what Jude never really found out. Something sudden and painful, he thought. There were pictures of them in the kitchen, in most rooms, looking happy and in love while Louisa’s hair was still entirely ash-blond. She put the kettle on for him and Jude gently told her to sit down, that since he was imposing on her, he’d make the drinks. She understood that he needed to do something, to move, and she lowered herself into a seat, comfortable in their quiet.

“Sir.” Although Jude consciously heard the demon’s greeting, his body moved before he could think at the glimpse of grey skin he saw only in his peripheral vision and then he was in front of Louisa with a dinner knife in his hand. Then his brain caught up and with a wince he replaced the knife on the side and stepped away, the kettle rumbling with bubbles and steam.

“I’ll go.” He muttered, and then when Louisa protested, looking upset enough that Jude couldn’t look at her, “It’s late. I just wanted to come by.”

“I’m sorry. Sir.” It was the demon, who’d backed up into the kitchen doorway, most of the way out of the room, “I’m sorry.” He repeated and then he slipped away down the corridor. Jude was still, Louisa’s expression crumpled,

“He thinks it’s his fault.”

“It’s not.” Jude sighed and collapsed down into a seat, slumping forwards. Louisa put a mug in front of him and he stared at it blankly until she sat down next beside him. Jude sat up to turn to her, “Has he been alright with you? Are you okay? I- It was never my intention to just dump him on you like that.” Louisa took a sip of her tea,

“He’s very lost.” Louisa said, looking him in the eye. Then she sighed, “He’s scared of what might happen if he doesn’t obey so having nothing to do terrifies him. I give him lots of little, easy jobs,” she smiled sadly, “the garden’s never looked neater. And that seems to settle him. He’s a little better, I think, but it hasn’t been very long.” Jude nodded slowly,

“You understand people.” He said, “You just get them. You got me.” She laughed, but not cruelly,

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She said, “I think there’s always more to find out about people, always little nuggets of parts of them that you didn’t know were there.”

“Do you mind being alone?” Jude asked, abruptly.

“I talk to people during the day, honey, I don’t mind coming home to just my cat and now a sweet demon who makes me dinner. Only guy I’ve ever known to volunteer to do the washing up!”

“Would you like me to wash up you mug?” Jude teased lightly, though there was sadness behind most of the things the demon did. Louisa smiled,

“You don’t fool me, Jude Attaway.” She said, His mouth crooked up at the side and he took their empty mugs over to the sink. His gaze was drawn to the doorframe as he rolled his sleeves up and Louisa must have seen it, “Are you missing him?” Jude tensed up slightly, because from most people, particularly his mother, this would have been an accusation, or at least with some judgement behind it. But he knew Louisa didn’t mean it that way. With his back to her, it was easier not to reply. “He’s,” she hesitated, “quiet company.”

“I know,” Jude said with a slight edge to his tone, “he does everything so carefully that you just barely notice him.” He put the mugs to dry and replaced some of the dry plates stacked on the drying rack back in their places in the cupboards, “He’s probably sat motionless upstairs, unsure whether he’s allowed to go to sleep. My presence has probably unsettled him.” A pause, “How’s work?”

“Same old,” she said, not unhappily, “At my age, I’m so used to everyone and everything that it all runs like oiled clockwork.” Jude snorted,

“Don’t be silly.” She huffed, though she was smiling at him. Jude pulled her to him,

“It’s good to see you. Mom.”

“It’s always good to see you honey.” She said, rubbing his back lightly, “Do you want to stay the night? I could make up a bed?” Jude hesitated and then nodded as he stepped back, his knee complaining as he put his weight on it. Driving was always painful.

“Sure. Thanks. With the demon?” Louisa considered him seriously,

“Would that be alright? I mean, if you or he isn’t comfortable with that then I could set up the camp bed? Or here on the sofa?”

“No, no. It’s alright. I’ll ask him.”

“Are you sure? The pillowcases have been moved into the bottom of my wardrobe. And it’s just getting chilly so you might want some of the blankets under the spare bed.” Jude nodded and headed upstairs, taking his time with the climb. He heard the screen being switched on, “And Jude?” He paused, “Ask the demon if he wants to come down, will you? He won’t admit it but I think he quite likes this drama. He even worked up the courage to ask me when the next episode was on.” Jude stilled,

“That’s good,” he said, meaning it, “I’ll ask him.” Then he moved off, reaching the top of the stairs with a hand on his knee,

“Sir please don’t be alarmed but I’m just here. I swear, I don’t mean any threat to you or, or Louisa.” The demon’s hurried words startled Jude somewhat and he looked up to see the demon stood in the bathroom doorway, frozen to the spot. Jude grunted mildly, too distracted by his knee to come up with a coherent answer. He eased his way down the corridor to the guest room, aware that the demon hadn’t moved,

“Where are you sleeping?” Jude asked finally,

“Louisa put me in the room just in front of you, sir.” The demon said quietly. Jude touched his hand to the doorway for support and wished he’d brought his pills with him. The demon must have seen his grimace, “Sir, can I help?” Jude shook his head silently and it was still a minute before he was able to bring up what he wanted to say,

“Demon. Do you want me to sleep on the sofa, I mean would it make you uncomfortable-?”

“That’s fine, sir.” The demon surprised Jude by cutting him off and in the silence following Jude, without looking at the demon, knew he was forming an apology,

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Jude said, “If you change your mind later you can tell me.”

“Yes, sir.” The demon replied softly. Jude cleared his throat and shifted his weight,

“Uh- Louisa said to invite you to watch the screen with her. There’s a drama on, something you like?”

“Thank you, sir.” Jude leaned against the doorway and put his head against it, “Sir?”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, sir, sorry. I’ll be downstairs, if you want me.”

“No wait.” Jude turned around to see the demon on the edge of descending down the stairs. His eyes were blown wide staring at Jude, until he lowered them. Jude had forgotten how beautiful the demon was. “What was your question?”

“I was going to ask whether you were in pain, sir.”

“Oh. No, not much. It’s fine.” He nodded.

“Sir.” The demon acknowledged and then disappeared silently downstairs.

“Thanks for asking.” Jude murmured quietly, though the chattering screen downstairs didn’t answer him.

Chapter Text

Jude’s POV

It was fully dark, late, before the demon came up to join Jude in bed. He climbed in hesitantly, settled down. The hallway light was turned off and Jude heard Louisa move away to her room down the hall.  

He could hear the demon breathing; steady and even but not deep enough for him to be asleep. Jude was too warm.

Time passed and Jude felt the demon relax fully into sleep. He turned over carefully, looking up at a ceiling he couldn’t make out. The demon was warm beside him, a mass he felt compelled to move towards, a loose tension in the bed covers between them. The demon slept on his side, turned away.

Jude inched his leg out over the edge of the mattress, feeling with relief the cold air brushing over his bare foot. Sliding out as carefully as he could manage, Jude came to standing. A shot of pain up his knee and Jude bit back a groan, cursing under his breath.

The demon mumbled something unintelligible and Jude froze. The demon didn’t return to sleep, instead coming up to seated like a puppet who’d had his strings pulled, “Master?” He murmured, his voice husky,

“Go back to sleep.” Master?

“Yes master.” The demon sank back down, turning over to face Jude, his eyes already closed. Jude released a long breath, crouching down painfully to sit on the cool floorboards underneath the window. He tilted his head back to rest against the wall as the demon’s breathing deepened again.

A series of remembered images moved through Jude’s head; Forest’s hand on the demon’s jaw, appraising him coldly, the demon falling to his knees in the kitchen, the demon crying into the bedcovers after Jude had hurt him. Jude winced at that memory and his hand came up to his throat, before he stretched his fingers out to bask them in the slight light coming in under the curtains from the streetlights outside.

It wasn’t like this at home; the forest was as black as the clouds covering the moon; no orange light leaked in through his windows. But here, he could see the hazy outline of his trembling hand, black as dirt, black as blood. He cupped the back of his skull, bringing his head down as if bracing, his chin pressing against the sharp lines of his collarbones, restricting his breathing somewhat. Jude tightened his hold on his head until the strain on the back of his neck was agony, a groan climbing its way up his throat. He clenched his jaw against it, bringing his head back up abruptly, forcibly suppressing his uneven breathing. He sat motionless for a while, looking at the dark mass of the bed, trying to quiet the itch under his skin. The muscles in his neck throbbed but he thought he deserved it.

Later, he got unsteadily to his feet and the floor creaked beneath him as he stepped forwards, making him pause. The demon was motionless on the bed, sprawled out on his stomach with his head turned to the side so that the sharp planes of his face caught the shallow light. Jude’s fingers twitched to touch, to connect, but his hand never moved from his side and he eased back under the covers and turned his back on the demon.

That was the first time the demon had called him ‘master’. Was that what he had called his previous owner? Bastard.

Jude turned over. His skin was clammy, his knee throbbing in time with the pain in his neck and his skin crawled. He switched sides again and heard the demon’s breathing hitch, feeling a stab of guilt for disturbing him. He tried to hold himself still,

“Sir, are you awake?” The demon’s whisper was barely more than an exhalation.

“Yes.” Jude sighed. He had his back to the demon but he felt the mattress shift slightly as the demon lifted himself up. The demon was silent so Jude broke the silence with the question that had been eating at him, “Who was your former owner?” There was a heavy pause, time enough for Jude to draw himself up to seated to swallow a mouthful of water from the glass on the side. He set it back with a tap of glass on wood.

“His name was Matt. Sir.” The demon was propped up on his elbow, his eyes glinting, dropped low.

“Did he rape you?” The demon didn’t react. Then he said softly,

“No, sir.” There was more softness in the demon’s voice, here, in the dark. He seemed less tense; more resigned than afraid. His compliance scared Jude and he sighed and fell silent, feeling abruptly exhausted. His hand came up to pinch the skin at the nape of his neck. It felt like he’d pulled something, “Damn it.” He muttered. A warm hand was laid suddenly on his shoulder and Jude tensed, lowering his arm slowly, his eyes turning to stare at the barely-there outline of the demon’s form, the hand on his shoulder all too solid. The demon slid lithely up to seated before Jude could gather himself to say anything, the demon’s hand climbing up his arm to the neck of Jude’s shirt and Jude shivered at the feel of the demon’s fingers on his skin, finally managing to spit out a protest, cursing his own weakness. No matter how good it felt,

 “Demon, no.” He muttered. When the hands didn’t move, Jude shook himself, twitching away from the demon’s addictive touch.

“Sir?” Jude’s resolve almost crumbled at the pain in that one word but he withheld.

“Don’t touch me like that again.” He said, noticing that the demon had withdrawn from him, putting cold space between them. He did nothing to rectify it. It was better the demon kept away; better that he was cold to the demon,

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want you apologies.” Jude’s harsh reply was painful in the dark; his bitterness too sharp for the soft, night-time surrealism. The demon’s silence was wounded. Then he said, brokenly,

“Yes sir.”

A knock on the door and Jude felt a childish urge to burrow back down into the warm and dark and uncomplicated pleasure of the thick bedcovers but he didn’t.

“Come in.” The demon remained motionless when Jude quietly told the house system to lift the lights up to semi and Louisa stepped inside, looking sinewy and sleepy in the lights’ glow,

“Are you both okay?” She asked, her attention going first to the demon. Jude glanced at the demon – beautiful – and couldn’t stand the pain,

“I can’t do this tonight.” Jude said quietly, moving to stand. The demon looked up from his slumped position, every line and inch of him heavy with unhappiness, an expression of acceptance on his face. Jude hated that look and he hated that it lay on the demon’s features so familiarly,

“What’s wrong?” Louisa tried to apprehend him as he went to leave and his instincts bristled threat threat. He suppressed it but there must have been enough animal in his glare because she stepped aside, “Talk to me,” she commanded, following him down the stairs,

“I’ll sleep on the sofa.” He said but she trailed behind him,

“Sit down,” Louisa said, “And talk to me. Please.” Jude slumped down on the sofa, acutely aware of her as she sat down beside him. When he didn’t speak, Louisa drew her night-robe in tighter at the waist and said, “What is it you can’t do?”

“Stay in the room with him.” Louisa waited patiently for him to say more. He gave in after a few moments, “He confuses me,” Jude said, “He acts like- like a victim, no not a victim, just- someone I should protect. But he’s a demon, a threat-” he broke off, feeling unsteady and pained and God, his neck was throbbing something awful, “It’s wrong.” He finished weakly,

 “You were trained to see demons as the enemy,” Louisa said gently, “and now you’ve got one living in close quarters with you, it’s no wonder you’re disorientated, overwhelmed. But you’ll adjust. It’s what people do.”

“I-” He stuttered, ever frustrated with his inability to explain, “Even in, in the war, when we were killing or capturing demons as often as we could get our hands on them, I had some respect for them.” He swallowed, “We knew the demons were intelligent. Knew they were resourceful and, maybe I hated them because they’d killed people, lots of people I knew and cared about. I’d met the eyes of a demon who knew I was unarmed and went to kill me. But, treating them as animals; we couldn’t afford to do that.” He closed his eyes, “And they, they acted so human sometimes that I felt like their enemy, felt the hate for myself that they must have felt for me. Sometimes I gave that demon woman reasons why she pointed that gun at me even though I was unarmed. Sometimes, in my dreams, I told her I forgave her.” Because I didn’t have any reason to kill them, he left unsaid. His voice had dropped to a murmur, scared and ashamed of what he had admitted. But Louisa only nodded silently, accepting what he said, accepting him. Murderous, spastic, gay, unlovable him.

“I first came into contact with demons through my job.” She offered and Jude lifted his head, dragging his palms over his eyes as he did so. Louisa was watching him and he gave her a weak smile to try to reassure her, though it was watery.

He thought now, though it hadn’t occurred to him at the time, that Louisa hadn’t hesitated in speaking to the demon like he was human, never showing any sign of being afraid. It was odd, very odd, considering the fear-mongering on the screen, the news channels showing a new story every few hours detailing their violent, uncontrollable bestiality. He waited for her to explain, “Demons were very rarely around when I was a child. The war had barely begun, negotiations with them over land only recently broken down.” She sighed and lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, “I was more fascinated than terrified when I first came into contact with one. He belonged to a Mrs Williams, my very first customer, who was married to a general or a Commander, I forget. She was very nice, I thought; kind to me, even though I was staff. But she treated that demon, barely a boy, like a dim-witted dog. But also as if there was a violent animal underneath his placid eyes. I never saw her hit him, but,” she took a long breath, her eyes haunted, “I slipped and fell once while I was there, forgot where I’d just mopped, and he ran at me but before I could be scared he was on his knees beside me with wide eyes asking me how he could help. And he smiled when I thanked him. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t violent.” She smoothed a hand over her hair, “Maybe that wasn’t the best example but I’ve met many demons who serve the wealthy and they’re just people, scared and desperate people, but just people; of every kind of personality.” Jude was staring at her, shaking his head slowly,

“I don’t know,” he said, “if that- then- God-”

“Jude don’t.” Louisa frowned but he shook off her touch,

“Don’t what? Don’t blame myself?” He choked, shaking his head as if to dislodge the memory of what Louisa had just said, “I killed. And not just intelligent creatures, but creatures you’re calling people? Why wouldn’t I blame myself? Why don’t you blame me?”

“There were hundreds, thousands of wars in the past, Jude, between humans.” Louisa said, “Soldiers have always followed orders, trying to protect their country, their loved ones, and then suffering for it whilst others get silver-pieces.”

“I’ve got my own silvers,” Jude snapped darkly, “Loyalty above and beyond, June 1523. Courage in the face of danger, January 1524. Compassion, goddamn compassion, can you believe that? January fucking 1526. All dumped in a box along with the touch-copy of my ‘honourable discharge’. Nothing honourable about letting-” Jude choked and Louisa rubbed his shoulder. He could feel her eyes on him,

“What happened, Jude?” She prompted gently, “You never told me.” Never told anyone, Jude thought, and another part of him hissed acidly Because then they’d know, then they’d really know who you were, and you’re too much of a coward to face that, aren’t you, faggot? Your own mother couldn’t love you. Monster.

Louisa must have seen something of his thoughts as she said, with utter sincerity, “I know you and I love you and nothing you’ve done could change the way I think about you.” Jude closed his eyes, his skin flushed with heat and discomfort,

“We were holding a demon man prisoner. One in a long line of dozens. I was exhausted, alone on duty because men kept dying. And he goaded me and I snapped, almost- almost killed him. No-one blinked at shift-change because they understood but, please-” he met Louisa’s for a glancing moment before shying away, “I felt so ashamed for not having control and I couldn’t face him. I avoided my duties, even, until I couldn’t anymore.” He swallowed thickly, “I saw his fear when he saw me. And the smirk on Candy’s face when she left me alone with him. Like she knew me.” Jude drew in a shallow breath, trying to spit out the worst bit. The treason, “I untied him.” Jude gasped another breath, feeling sick. He didn’t look at Louisa, “And I gave him my gun. And I told him to shoot me through the leg.”

“And he did.” Louisa finished, her voice a murmur. Jude nodded,

“Yes.” He whispered. He felt Louisa’s hands on his face, tears spilling down his cheeks to be smoothed away by her fingers,

“You’re so brave, Jude. My baby, my boy, I’m so proud of you.”

“What?” Jude jerked himself backwards, out of her hold, “How can you say that?” He growled violently, “I deserted. I let free a dangerous enemy. I armed him.” His voice had grown to a shout, “I was weak and pathetic and I let down everyone who served me. I lied to people’s faces for weeks. How can you say that? How can you be proud of me? What’s fucking wrong with you?” Louisa was on her feet too, reaching for him, “Don’t touch me!” He yelled, “You disgust me! Why don’t you hate me?” Jude was so angry,

“I could never hate you.” Louisa said, so firm and loving and bright that he hated her with everything because how could she mock him like this? and he pushed her, pushed her with every ounce of his strength. And she was flung backwards like a doll, flung and falling towards the tiles- and Jude’s heart fell with hers, lurching in his chest-

Jude never saw the demon move. One moment Jude and Louisa were alone and then the demon was there.

Louisa, the only person to ever love Jude, and if the demon hadn’t- her skull would have been shattered on the tiles. She would be a corpse on the floor with a spreading accusation of red, sin-red, demon-red life blood haloing her brittle hair, her eyes as wide and unseeing and dead as the demon woman’s after Rye had unloaded his whole magazine into her chest.

Jude’s head was a spinning, sickening mess. He couldn’t think past the blood burnt onto his retinas and oh God, oh God, oh God not again.

But Louisa was sitting up, lifting her head from where it had been cupped in the demon’s huge, pure hands. Helped by the demon, she came up to standing and met Jude’s eyes with wide ones full of life-

“Jude-” A ringing in his ears,

“Do you hate me now?” He whispered. Jude’s vision tunnelled, his knees folded and he passed out.

He never felt the demon’s arms close around him.

Chapter Text

Jude woke alone. He struggled up from where he was lying on the lounge sofa and went to stand, fighting a wave of nausea. Dawn hadn’t yet risen fully above the horizon and he reached out blearily to find the arm of the sofa to push himself up,

“Jude, don’t! Sit down.” Louisa called from across the room and he heard her hurry towards him.

He couldn’t look at her. With blood and guilt and self-horror rising sickeningly, he went for the door, reeling away from her when she went to block it, “Jude- wait please.” She wouldn’t move but Jude had to leave and, his head down and his heart hurting, he pushed gently past her. He forced himself to be rigid and unresponsive to her pleas, her hands on his arm trying to persuade him to stay even as he went for the door.

He’d thought that she was the one person he would never- that nothing could make him- but he’d been wrong and he’d almost- and only the demon now standing silent in the hallway had prevented the unthinkable.

“Jude, please, we need to talk. I need to talk to you. Don’t I deserve that? Jude?” Jude stepped out of the door, “For god’s sake, Jude, you stubborn ass." To the demon, "Stop him will you?” Jude was halfway down the drive when he felt strong, cold fingers close carefully but firmly around his forearm. When he turned, the demon looked back at him, sad and uncertain,

“Please, sir-” Jude pulled his arm free, knowing full well that the demon was strong enough to hold Jude if he wanted to. Jude turned fully to take hold of the demon’s jaw,

“Who do you take orders from?” He asked, his voice rough and thin. He hated the sound of it, wanted nothing more than to step out of his own skin. At the very least he wanted to run. But he had a duty to ensure that no more harm came to Louisa, not from him, not from anyone,

“You, sir.” The demon responded warily,

“That’s right. And you will protect her or die trying. And you will stop her if she tries to come and see me. You belong to her, now, and you will do as she says.” The demon was wide-eyed but he agreed steadily,

“I will, sir.” Jude released the demon,

“Good.” He said and turned away to climb into his car, “Don’t follow me.” He said and closed the car door with Louisa looking after him from the porch and the demon standing, stranded, on the drive. Jude drove away with his fingers clenched around the steering wheel, heading towards a house that had never felt like home whilst dawn broke spectacularly overhead.

Chapter Text

The streets outside Meat Parade Nightclub were vacant and still. The other buildings seemed to be holding their breath but, after descending the echoing metal stairwell, the stomach-deep throb of the music worked its way through the walls to Jude’s ears.

Jude blinked into the retina scanner at the bottom of the stairwell and a green light blinked back at him as the doors slid open. He moved through a dimly-lit, throat-like entrance passage, the volume of the music hitting him hard and enveloping him whole; fierce, fast and rhythmic, it made Jude want to close his eyes and lose himself to the crowd.

And there was a crowd. The passage opened up into an underground hollow, like the magma chamber of a volcano and with the same inherent heat and danger. It swum in a red glow that made Jude think of blood and guilt, the lights throbbing silver with the drumbeat as Jude moved over to the bar.

Jude looked around for Brutus but couldn’t see him in the dim light. He had no doubt that Brutus would find him, the man’s irises glowing a different colour every time Jude saw him. Jude ordered a gin-mix from the demon male behind the bar, the creature’s skin such a deep grey that it seemed to absorb light, painted as it was with luminescent silver stripes. The demon put Jude’s drink on the bar, his broad shoulders draped with the same thigh-length, deep-black coats open at the chest and fitted grey trousers that all of the demon servers wore. Their toes were snug were silver and gold rings and their eyes glinted as coldly as the metallic gleam of their collars.

Jude moved around the central mass of dancing strangers, skirting the wall to lean against one of the empty wall-seats, the drum-beat rousing his blood faster than the alcohol burning its way down his throat.  

Jude looked out on the dancers. A man, naked but for an open waistcoat, moved like a snake, his pale body thin and lithe, composed of hip-bones, huge eyes and dextrous fingers. Another had coal-black, twisted horns rising from his corn-yellow hair, his body entwined with a sharp-jawed man twice his age, his hair the same magnesium-white as the pulsing lights. Jude finished his drink, washing back pills that would numb his pain for a time. He knew that the following morning it would feel as if he’d had a nail driven into his knee.

Jude merged easily into a crowd that folded and pulsated, drawing him into the heat and movement compulsively. The music beat on, slipping into trance-like lulls which built to a heart-thumping crescendo. As Jude danced, bodies touched his shoulders, his waist, his hips and he tolerated it. Periodically, Jude would rise from the music’s enchantment over him and he would recoil from the contact, taking several sharp breaths of panic before he could sink back down into numbness.

A man with sugar-white lips rocked against Jude, his mouth tasting sweet when Jude kissed him. The man’s fingers clawed in Jude’s hair as he palmed heated skin and shuddered to have another’s skin beneath his fingers. When they parted, another replaced him, someone faceless and fantastical.

A glimpse of grey – the grey of a demon’s skin – and Jude froze, staring into the crowd and flinching away when he was lightly bumped on the shoulder. His demon’s face haunted him, always just out of sight, the male’s sloe-dark eyes seeming to look out at him from the darkness.

Jude’s sour-blue shirt was pulled open by a man who reeked of jasmine, the buttons rupturing under eager hands so that the breath-wet air tingled over Jude’s bare skin. Scratches were lanced into Jude’s hips as his earlobe was nipped at playfully and the music shifted into a heavy, trance-inducing pounding so that Jude and the mischievous brunette making marks on Jude’s ribs with his nails, rolled with the beat in a parody of courtship.

Jude had his tongue in the smooth heat of someone’s mouth when a hand grasped the ball of Jude’s shoulder, skin cool enough to send a shiver down Jude’s arm. Jude turned to find Brutus standing there in solemn, downy-grey finery, his body so strikingly masculine that his silver eyeliner only succeeded to highlight his maleness. Tonight, Brutus’s eyes glittered a fiery burgundy and Jude allowed himself to be directed by a hand on his tail-bone out of the crowd and into a blood-red alcove which, when the mirrored door sealed, was so silent that it made Jude’s ears hiss. At Brutus’s quiet instruction, a soft humming picked up and took the sharp edge off the silence.

“You look edible.” Brutus purred from beside Jude’s ear and Jude allowed those rough, familiar hands to free him of his shirt, slide the belt from his trousers. Jude made a noise of promise when he brought Brutus’s mouth to his, looking into those bright eyes that had seen so much and yet smiled at Jude. Brutus rocked up into Jude and Jude let himself be pushed down to the floor though he kept his arms wrapped around the flexing muscles of Brutus’s neck and shoulders.

“You make even me jealous, dancing like that.” Brutus growled, nipping at Jude’s throat and under his unshaved jaw. He licked a cold stripe up Jude’s jaw with a cat-like grin, “Mine.” Jude flashed his teeth back in a smile but there was more lust than warmth in his actions as he tugged Brutus down impatiently on top of him, “Keen. You hungry, little wolf?” Brutus tugged the heavy, furred ears from where they were embedded in Jude’s hair and kissed the thin, tired skin under Jude’s eyes, his own irises glowing a predatory yellow. The floor of the volcanic alcove was padded and Brutus’s knees sank into it either side of Jude’s hips as he nipped his way down Jude’s stomach. Jude made a noise of need and Brutus laughed, continuing to bite and kiss Jude’s flushed skin as they made love.

Brutus, still breathing thickly, ended up lying at Jude’s side with his leg crooked possessively over Jude’s calves.

“Good?” Brutus asked and Jude sought out Brutus’s thick lips in reply, “Needy thing.” Brutus teased, running his fingers lightly through Jude’s hair. Jude felt the tingling all the way down his spine, “What’s wrong?” Brutus had his fingers on Jude’s cheek, touching the tears there, “Are you in pain?”

“No.” Jude closed his eyes and felt Brutus run his fingers lightly over them,

“Tell me.” He commanded gently.

“It’s difficult, Brutus.” Jude said, lethargy making him honest,

“What’s difficult?” Brutus was tender and Jude melted under it, hating that he did but too tired to resist.

“Life.” He breathed. Brutus’s hand stilled in Jude’s hair and Jude pressed up against Brutus’s fingers with a whine until the other man resumed. Brutus didn’t speak for a long time.

“Why is it difficult?” He asked finally. Jude sighed quietly, struggling to pull himself up to seated. Brutus drew Jude to his side, the heat of the other man comforting.

“I pushed someone away.” Jude said, mumbling his words into Brutus’s shoulder, “I hurt them.”

“Were they angry?” Jude shook his head, tears leaking down his cheeks silently. He scrubbed them away hard enough to make his skin blotch.

“They should have been.” He said, rolling over to press Brutus back to the floor, “Make me forget.” He said. Brutus’s breathing hitched and he grasped at Jude’s hips, flipping them over so that, for a while, Jude could forget.

“Brutus?” Brutus hummed in response, his eyes closed. “Are demons people?” Brutus stirred, pushing himself onto his elbows,

“Where did that come from?” He asked,

“Just thinking.” Brutus laughed,

“Clearly we’re not done if you’re still able to think.” Jude smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. Brutus didn’t seem to notice, sucking one of Jude’s fingers into his mouth. Ahen Jude didn’t respond, Brutus pulled back and took Jude’s face in his hand, “Demons aren’t people.” He said, “Don’t think anymore.” Jude frowned and pushed Brutus away,

“I can’t.” He said, lifting himself up to sit with his back to the warm, mirrored surface of the doors. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, Brutus was lying on his side, looking up at Jude, “I wouldn’t blame you if you want to go.” Jude said, rubbing a hand through his hair, feeling the familiar apathy burrowing back in to him. He tried to reclaim the numbness and felt it slip through his fingers.

Brutus moved over to join Jude by the door, resting his chin on Jude’s shoulder,

“I’m not leaving you.” Brutus said, “Besides the fact that you’re blocking the door, I like you for more than just sex.”

“Just sex?” Jude muttered, his mouth quirked up at the side. Brutus smiled,

“Not that it isn’t good.” Jude’s hand drifted to his knee even though the pleasant buzz of the drugs hadn’t yet worn off. Brutus adjusted the weight of his head on Jude’s shoulder as he said, “You want me to call in a demon? Is that what you’re asking? I’m open-minded, you know.” Jude stomach constricted painfully at Brutus’s light words and he pulled away,

“No.” He said sharply enough that Brutus looked hurt. Jude watched Brutus’s face as the man worked through his thoughts,

“You’re not feeling guilty?” Brutus said eventually, looking incredulous and somewhat disappointed. Jude didn’t reply, looking down at his hands, at his scarred knee and the weakness of his body. Brutus took Jude’s wrists and asked Jude to look him in the eye, “You can’t think like that.” He said, suddenly deadly serious, “It was necessary. It was kill or be killed and we deserved to live more than those animals, okay?” He pulled Jude towards him, “Believe me when I say that. I would kill a hundred of them to save just you. More.” Jude slid his hands free.

“Don’t say that.” Put his demon in that hundred and Jude couldn’t justify that. But his demon wasn’t a soldier, wasn’t a killer; he wasn’t the same creature as the ones he and Brutus had killed defending human territory. It’s not the same.

Brutus’s presence pulled him from his thoughts and Jude leaned over to put his head on the other man’s shoulder. If Brutus had been irritated by Jude’s earlier reaction he didn’t let on, taking Jude’s hand with a soldier’s firmness of grip. Jude didn’t speak again and Brutus turned to other, lighter conversation of people they both knew, his low, rumbling talk not requiring Jude to respond. Jude was glad of it.

“You want to dance?” Brutus asked after silence had come between them. Jude roused himself, shrugging away the stiffness in his shoulders, before shaking his head,

“It’s time I headed home.” He said. Brutus didn’t reply, just pressed his nose to Jude’s jaw and sucked a mark into his neck, “Just so you don’t forget me.” He said, pulling back with a roguish grin. He knew how Jude would react, though he made a noise of pretended surprise when Jude sought out Brutus’s mouth, “Thought you were going home?” Brutus drawled, drawing away,

“Your fault.” Jude grumbled, lifting himself to straddle Brutus’s hips and press his lips aggressively to Brutus’s, his hand finding the hot skin at the back of Brutus’s neck.

He finally pulled away, lips tingling, and came to his feet to shuck on his shirt and trousers. Brutus stood with Jude’s belt in hand and circled Jude’s waist with his arms as he leisurely threaded the leather through the loops in Jude’s trousers. Brutus pressed his hands to Jude’s shoulders to say, “Call me,” asserting his dominance without a hint of humour. Jude jerked a nod and the doors slid open, allowing a flood of music to take any final words they might have said. Instead, Jude walked away and didn’t look back, climbing the cold stairwell with a heaviness of heart and moving across the pre-dawn streets to find his car.

Chapter Text

Two months later…

The rain was coming down in torrents, gushing over the windscreen too thickly for the squeaking windscreen wipers to keep up with

 “Christ." Jude muttered, driving at a crawl down the rutted track to his house, the car lurching and jerking in and out of the potholes. He drove the last couple of miles to the house, struggling to stay on the track with the rain coming down as thickly as ever before pulling up outside the house and tugging up the hood on his coat. His hand found his knee, sore from the driving, before he pushed the door open and bent his head against the icy downpour. He strode round to the rear of the car and with several plastic bags cutting into the flesh of his palms, Jude locked the car and made for the house.

With his head ducked down under his hood, Jude was so intent on getting to the house that when he looked up and saw a grey shape huddled on the ground no more than a meter in front of him, he jerked to a sudden stop in alarm.

The crouching creature didn’t move but Jude dropped the bags to free his hands and backed up, his heart shuddering in his chest, looking around him. Ambush, his instincts hissed, distraction. Be vigilant. But Jude couldn’t see any other forms through the sheets of rain and he looked back to the hunched form kneeling on his drive. Jude’s brow furrowed in disbelief, taking in the creature’s broad shoulders, curled as they were,

“Demon?” He said, staring, “Demon?” Jude was hit by a sudden lurching fear that the demon was dead, left on his drive as a warning, and he covered the distance between them in two quick strides to nudge the demon’s knee with his boot. To Jude’s great relief, the demon stirred, though his head stayed hanging low on his chest and Jude could hardly make out the small, shuddering movement of the demon’s chest as he breathed. At a loss, the cold rain soaking through his coat, Jude took the demon by the chin to lift his head and shuddered at the icy temperature of the demon’s skin. “Shit.”

The demon didn’t react to Jude taking his jaw except to blink vacantly, his eyes unseeing, lips unnaturally blue. There was a white scrap of cloth or paper clutched in the demon’s fisted right hand and Jude crouched down to unclench the demon’s frozen fingers from around the paper. Stuffing the page into the back pocket of his jeans, Jude cursed and bent to uneasily drape the demon’s solid, limp arm over his shoulders, wrapping his arm around the back of the demon’s sodden back. He shivered at the icy temperature of the demon’s form against his own body, “Come on,” he said, trying to urge the demon to his feet, “come on.” The demon, barely conscious though he was, tried to do as he was told, struggling to get his legs under him but seemed neither able to support himself nor coordinate his limbs. Jude grunted as the demon, both taller and heavier than he was, leaned on him, his bad knee almost caving under them.

Straightening himself, Jude laboured to get them both to the house, muttering encouragement with his hand fisted in the fabric of the demon’s shirt. The house system recognised Jude’s retinas at the door and it opened on his weary command, though he had to repeat himself in order to be heard over the pounding of the rain. When the door swung open, Jude dragged the demon inside and kicked the door shut with a weak clang. The sudden amniotic quiet made Jude’s ragged breathing painfully audible, alongside the demon’s shallow breaths, his skin pale as paper. Jude, grunting in pain, was forced to lower the demon to the floor and the demon slumped against the wall. He didn’t stir.

Jude quashed the panic wriggling in his stomach at the demon’s sickly pallor and, after grabbing several gasping breaths, his shoulder leaning against the wall, Jude set to the task of dragging the demon through to the bathroom. There, he snapped on the shower and set to stripping the demon of his waterlogged clothes. The shirt plastered to the demon’s skin was one of the ones Jude had ordered for him when he first arrived, but the jeans were different and Jude thought absently as he worked that Louisa must have bought them for the demon with some of the realm money Jude had forwarded to her. Jude tugged impatiently at the heavy trousers that refused to come free from around the demon’s ankle with the shower running behind him. When he finally pulled them free, Jude checked the temperature of the lukewarm shower and heaved the demon into the shower stall.

The demon flinched clumsily when the stream of water hit him but didn’t move otherwise and Jude sagged back against the wall of the shower as the warm water ran over them and caught his breath, the demon’s head a limp weight on his chest. The demon’s short hair was plastered to his scalp, his grey face streaked with water. Even considering the demon’s normal, grey-tinged colouring, the demon’ skin looked waxy and drained of colour.

After a few minutes had passed, Jude wearily moved to prop the demon’s deadweight against the side of the shower so that he could rub at the demon’s limp limbs, trying to stimulate blood flow.

It took a long time before the demon began to rouse, groaning at the undoubtedly agonising rush of blood to his extremities, and Jude thought it was safe to increase the water temperature. He worked in the mind-set of a soldier in that he concentrated single-mindedly on the situation on hand. But, when he began to see the colour returning to the demon’s face, Jude was hit with a rush of relief strong enough that he had to pause to put his forehead to the wall and choke back the flood of emotion that threatened to force its way up his throat. A few seconds and Jude got himself under control and focused back on the demon.

The skin of Jude’s hands and feet was wrinkled when he finally shut off the water, growing cold as the house’s supply of hot water ran down, and cajoled the semi-conscious demon out of the shower. He efficiently stripped off his own dripping shirt and jeans, tossing them in the shower stall, before moving to rub the demon dry. As Jude dried himself, he looked down on the demon huddled on the floor, his head hanging low in exhaustion, and struggled with the realisation that the demon was relying on him, that he was responsible for another’s life, however unwanted that responsibility may be.  

Jude tiredly told the house system to order in a Chindian, though what he really wanted was one of the spiced soups Louisa used to leave in his freezer.

The demon was slow to respond to Jude’s instructions, usually so neat and controlled in his actions, he moved clumsily though to the bedroom and up onto the bed at Jude’s urging. Jude dragged the covers over him, before moving as quickly as the agony in his knee would allow to answer the ringing door chimes.

Jude accepted the fast-meal box vacantly and only then realised that he didn’t have any money on him. He gestured for the delivery demon to step out of the rain, muttering about fetching his wallet. He came back to find the demon hovering on the threshold looking uncertain and slowed his step as he looked at the delivery demon properly,

“How old are you?” The words fell out of Jude’s mouth before he could stop them and the girl looked over at him with wide eyes; she couldn’t be older than twelve or thirteen but she already stood at a similar height to Jude. Opening her mouth as if to speak, she closed it again and looked so unhappy that Jude felt a wrench in his gut. “Forget I said that.” He mumbled and held out a note. She hesitated to step further into the house so Jude came forwards instead and put the money in her hand, “Sorry.” He said and the demon gave him an earnest frown that was too old for her young face. She tucked the money away and stepped back into the rain,

“I hope you enjoy your meal, sir.” She said carefully.

It was a phrase that all the delivery demons said but Jude nodded and thanked her and closed the door, his damp fingers wrapped around the warm box. It was only after he’d set the box down on the counter that he remembered the bags of food he’d dropped on the drive and with a dispirited glance out the dark window at the steadily falling rain, he went to pick his coat up off the bathroom floor and, shaking off the worst of the water, pushed his feet into his boots and trudged back into the rain, taking two trips to bring in the bags in consideration of his knee, which was throbbing more doggedly than ever.

Draping his coat over the back of a chair, Jude, remembering something else, moved into the bathroom to fish the piece of paper the demon had been clutching out of his saturated jeans. In the kitchen, ignoring the drip of his discarded clothes shedding water, Jude sat down on the sofa and smoothed out the crumpled paper on his thigh. The waxy surface had prevented it becoming illegible and the water rolled off it easily as Jude scanned over it, the wrinkle between his brows deepening as he read. It told him that the demon was not allowed to be separated from him for longer than a month, barring exempting circumstances. Failure to abide by this would result in the demon being confiscated. As this was a first offense, the demon had been returned and there would be a fine. If it was paid promptly there would be no further action taken.

Jude’s hands clenched on the paper’s edges.

The brewing kettle broke Jude away from his thoughts and he left the notice on the sofa as he went to unpack the waterlogged food bags, throwing away the ruined eggs, and preparing a tray of food to carry through to the bedroom.

Jude was still lost in his head when he pushed open the bedroom door and almost dropped the tray when he saw the demon kneeling by the bed, his hair still clumped damply.

“What are you doing?” Jude snapped in alarm, putting the tray down on the floor to grasp the demon by the upper arms, “Get back into bed.” The demon stumbled obediently to his feet, the dark grey rings under his empty eyes making Jude’s jaw clench in anger. The demon must have been aware enough to notice Jude’s ire because he flinched, not knowing that it wasn’t directed at him. Jude’s anger slipped away and he quickly shushed the demon and eased him back under the covers, covering up the vulnerable expanse bare skin with blankets, reassuring the demon mindlessly “Careful, you’re alright.”

He brought over a steaming bowl of food and fed the demon small bites before holding the mug of warm tea to his lips. Jude was swallowing a mouthful from his own mug and devouring his own serving of food ravenously, when the demon spoke raspingly,

“I’m sorry, sir.” The demon’s eyes, hazy with tiredness, rested woefully on Jude and Jude sighed heavily, lacking the energy to be angry against those who’d done this.

“Hush.” He said, “Go to sleep now.”

“Yes master.” Jude twitched at the word but the demon was already slipping into sleep. Jude finished his food on the bedroom floor, watching the demon sleep without really seeing him. Eventually, too tired to anything else, Jude dragged himself to the far side of the bed to slump down beside the demon, passing out instantly.

Chapter Text

Jude woke naturally, the early dawn light blinding him as he opened his eyes and pulled his arm up from under the covers to check his wrist; barely eight o’clock. Jude heard a noise from beside him and started violently to find the demon there, lying on his front with his hand curled in a loose fist near his face like a child. Jude pulled himself up to seated carefully, so as not to wake the demon, and paused to look down on the sleeping male. He still had dark rings under his eyes but the sickly pallor had faded from his complexion. Jude thought back to the notice and rubbed his eyes wearily as he committed himself to the necessity of speaking to Louisa.

The same memories – her body connecting with his hands as he pushed her, the shock on her face as she was flung back and the demon’s revenant hands supporting Louisa’s head – rose like a torrent in his mind and Jude’s hands were shaking when he went to pour his coffee.

Nevertheless, he sat down at the kitchen table and, running a hand through his unruly, unwashed hair, he told the house system to call her. It brought up a screen on the wall in front of him as his house system connected to Louisa's and she accepted his call instantly. Her warm eyes looked out on him, large and worried as she came towards the screen from the far side of the kitchen and sat down.

“Jude," she said, her voice tired and worried, "I’ve been trying to get hold of you. Where were you?” Jude swallowed thickly,

“Out.” He said, “What happened?” He had the paper notice at his side but he wanted to hear Louisa’s response. Had Louisa known? Had she been there when the demon was abandoned on his drive in the rain? He was shaken with how furious he was, remembering with terrifying clarity the demon’s lifelessness and his own numb terror. When Louisa didn’t immediately reply, Jude repeated himself with more force, though he avoided meeting her eyes, “What happened?”

“Soldiers came, realm soldiers.” Louisa started, “They said that you- you were breaking your side of the contract. He needed to be living with you, or you lose him.” Jude said nothing, though he’d gathered this much from the stern wording of the notice, “I told them to wait, that I needed to contact you, but you weren’t answering the house system and they got impatient. They said if I didn’t hand him over, you’d be forfeiting your right to- own him. Jude I- how could you give him an order like that?” Jude looked up from where he’d had his gaze fixed on the table to look at Louisa in confusion,

“Like what?” He said. Something hard and upset flashed across Louisa’s features but she said simply,

“Watch.” Jude stared at her for the brief moment it took before her face disappeared from the screen and was replaced by what appeared to be camera footage recorded by her house system. There were soldiers there, Jude could see, and Louisa standing with her hands wrapped around one of the demon’s arms. There was an expression of blank fear on the demon’s face that reminded Jude of the sick vacancy of the demon's expression after that awful visit to the med center.

One of the soldiers, his voice hard and aggressive, stepped up to demand that the demon leave with them and leave immediately. Louisa protested fiercely but it was clear that she’d already tried to sway them and that the soldiers weren’t listening to her. With words like ‘regrettable’ and ‘necessary’, they moved to take the demon, only for the demon to say that he was not leaving, his voice set with finality. Jude inhaled sharply, remembering his last orders to the demon, protect her or die trying, with a bite of guilt that only deepened as the events unfolded on screen.

The soldiers ordered the demon’s cuffs to snap together, their position as realm officials meaning that the demon’s wrists clicked together on their command, binding him, but still the demon refused, resisting the soldiers as they tried to pull him down the hallway. Louisa had let go of the demon’s arm and, appearing shaken with fear, was telling him that it was okay, that he should go.  

“I’m not leaving.” The demon said, his voice made flat and mechanical by the recording, though it picked up when his voice broke over his words. He stood scared but firm and Jude's palms slickened with unease. “It was my owner’s order." The demon continued. "I will stay. That’s what he wants, he wants me here. I have to protect her. I have to stay, I have to.”

“Move.” One of the soldiers barked. The demon shook his head, stalwart.

"Please." He said, "I have to stay."

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Louisa tried to reassure the demon, but he was unwavering. The soldiers quickly grew frustrated and, without further warning, one of the soldiers snapped ‘Immobilise’ and the demon collapsed in spasms, Louisa flinching back, and his face contorted with pain, groaning low in his throat in pain. Louisa was distraught, the soldiers superior and Jude couldn’t watch it.

“Turn it off.” He ordered.

“You going to come nicely now, beast?” One of the soldiers on screen said coldly and Jude gritted his jaw when the demon grunted a refusal.

“Turn it off!” Jude barked, turning away when he was unable to watch any longer. He could hear the demon’s groans of pain, the low buzz of the collar and the sickening flesh-on-wood thump as the demon fell and was dragged down Louisa’s hallway.

The recording finally shut off and Jude didn’t look up from the table.

“Jude.” Louisa’s tone was tired. Jude didn’t respond. “You had no right to give him that order.” Jude slammed his hand down on the table with a sudden, violent thud,

“I had every right!” He snapped before curling back in on himself, his hand clenched in his hair.

“Then why can’t you watch it?” Louisa said with unusual coldness. Jude lifted his eyes up to rest on hers,

“I chose you over him.” He said, “And I would do it again now.” Louisa’s lip twitched,

“That’s not what I want.” She said, “I never agreed to that.” Jude glared at her,

“Tough luck,” he said, “that’s what you get.”

“Where is he?” Louisa demanded,

“Why?” Jude said, “You didn’t care about him yesterday.”

Louisa stared at him blankly,

“He was left kneeling on my drive in the freezing rain.” Jude continued coldly, “I thought he was dead.”

Louisa looked horrified. “What?” She said, “They told me they were taking him to you.”

“I was gone for hours.” Jude said, “If I’d been any longer-” Jude didn’t complete the thought.

“Is he alright?” Louisa breathed. Jude shrugged,

“Fine.” He said sharply. Louisa choked and, to Jude’s dismay, started crying. Jude stumbled for words, his brow crumpling in concern, “Don’t cry,” he tried, “He’s alright now.” Louisa wiped at her wet cheeks,

“Can I see him?” She asked. Jude hesitated,

“He’s asleep.” He said.

“Sir.” A quiet voice behind him and Jude jerked around to find the demon standing in the doorway,

“How long have you been listening?” He demanded,

“Jude,” Louisa said pleadingly, even as the demon sunk to his knees with an apology forming,

“Don’t do that.” Jude said, his unease making him harsh. He remembered exactly why he’d wanted the demon out of the house now; the nausea he felt every time the demon flinched or knelt or looked at him with those dark eyes wanting to please him. Jude couldn't please himself, couldn't keep himself stable and content, let alone anyone else. “Talk to Louisa.” He said and, shoving the chair away, stalked away to collapse on the sofa. He heard the demon move warily over to the table to speak to Louisa, as he'd been told to.

“Sit down, sweetheart.” Louisa said, speaking to the demon. The demon muttered a negative and Jude’s temper made his temper short and brutal,

“Sit down.” He said, immediately hearing the scrape of the chair being drawn back as the demon sat swiftly down. Jude was silent as Louisa and the demon talked quietly. Louisa was patient and concerned in the manner that Jude could never seem to mimic. The demon’s replies were flat and careful,

“I’m fine, thank you, Louisa.” He replied.

“How did you sleep? Did those soldiers just leave you on the drive? Was it raining then?”

“I slept well, thank you. Yes- it was raining, I think, Louisa.” When Jude had had enough of listening to their stilted conversation, he stood up and gritted his jaw as the demon instantly slid off the chair to kneel on the floor. Jude pulled out a different chair almost aggressively and, after a tense pause, the demon lifted himself back up.

“How did they know?” Louisa said quietly, her expression deeply unhappy. Jude shrugged, rubbing his forehead. He hadn’t thought that far ahead and frankly didn’t care.

“I- we haven’t eaten yet.” Louisa looked at him with that open, soft look and Jude shuddered, “I’ll be in touch.” He said and waved the connection away before she could respond. The demon’s silence felt accusatory but Jude knew it wasn’t and he got wearily to his feet, ignoring how the demon instantly followed him to standing. “What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever pleases you, sir.”

“Choose something.” Jude dropped bread into the toaster for himself, though he was feeling sick with the memory of the recording running through his mind. The demon hesitantly made cereal for himself, though not before laying the table and fetching anything Jude might possibly have required. Jude let him, sitting down at the table to rub his knee. Almost instantly, the demon was there with his pain pills and a glass of water. Jude looked up in surprise and accepted them,

“Thanks.” The demon only nodded silently, but some of the tension seemed to bleed out of him for a moment. When Jude’s toast popped up, the demon retrieved it for him and Jude ate mindlessly with the demon sat opposite. Jude was struck with the thought that while the demon held perfect posture, he nonetheless sat and ate and moved as if ashamed to occupy the space he did.

“What did you do at Louisa’s house?” Jude asked abruptly and the demon paused, laying his spoon down with a click, his elbows tucked neatly into his sides,

“It varied, sir.” He said quietly, “I did some gardening, and cleaning and helped with the meals.”

“You didn’t mind?”

“Mind what, sir?” The demon spoke softly.

“Being told to do chores. Didn’t you want to do something else?” The demon’s expression tightened into the beginnings of anxiety,

“Something else, sir?” He said, clearly afraid that there was something he should have been doing and hadn’t. Jude shrugged,

“Reading, watching the screen, your exercise thing, I don’t know.” The demon bowed his head,

“I watched the screen and exercised too, sir.” He said, as if confessing.

“Well, good.” Jude said, finishing his toast and standing to put his plate in the sink. “How are your scars?” The demon seemed thrown by the subject change,

“Fine, thank you, sir.” Jude turned to see the demon coming to his feet, though his bowl was still half-full.

“Finish that,” he said, and then regretted the harshness of his tone and added, “if you’d like.” Jude considered his next words as the demon returned to eating, “I’m glad they’re fine, but I know you’ve said they’ve been sore and I didn’t- I suppose Louisa doesn’t know about them?” The demon shook his head, “Right. I can put some cream on after breakfast, if you want?”

“Thank you, sir.” Jude nodded,

“Alright.” He said.

The demon’s scars were worse than before, Jude noted with a grimace when the demon slid his shirt off, though the demon’s musculature looked more pronounced. Clearly Louisa had been feeding the demon well. Jude tried not to think about how the sight of the shifting muscles under the demon's skin affected him.

The demon sucked in a sharp breath when Jude’s hand made contact with his inflamed skin and Jude snatched his hand away,

“Are you alright?” The demon’s reply was instant and steady,

“Yes sir.” Carefully, Jude laid his hand back on the demon’s hot skin and began to gently work at the demon’s scars as he did his own. The rain water last night had likely been the cause of this irritation, Jude thought, as it would have washed the natural grease out of the demon’s skin. The skin was cracked and irritated and it looked agonisingly sore. Jude took his time in applying the cream, being as careful as he could.  

When he’d finished, he looked up to see the demon’s head hanging forwards. The tension that was ever-present in the demon’s shoulders had dissipated and Jude repressed an urge to press his lips to the curved junction where neck met shoulder and instead cleaned his oily hands on a towel and stood up.

The demon’s head snapped up and his attention was fastened onto Jude as he moved to pick up his shirt,

“Can I do anything for you, sir?” Jude’s reflex reaction was the negative, but he hesitated, sitting slowly back down on the bed. The demon was watching him with unsettling intensity. The images of that awful recording refused to leave Jude’s head, layering Jude's fresh memory of the demon’s agonised expression of pain over his current steady neutrality. He looked away.

“Why the hell did you follow that order?” He asked quietly, staring unseeing at the floor.

“Order, sir?” The demon said, his voice taking on a quiet inoffensiveness. Jude could hear that the demon was trying to placate Jude with his submission but he ignored it, his own thoughts too loud in his head to allow room for consideration of the demon’s.

“What were you even thinking?” He demanded suddenly, his anger surprising himself and making the demon freeze, his shoulders curling upwards defensively. His lack of a response only angered Jude further, “Louisa told you to leave! The realm soldiers told you to leave! Why would you follow my stupid command?” Jude spat the word out, “Did you think I wanted you damaged? That I wanted Louisa to have to see that? That I wanted to see that? Why?” The demon was silent, his head lowered and Jude clenched his fingers into fists, “Why?” He repeated fiercely, “Why did you do that? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jude fell silent only when the demon slid down to kneel on the floor, folding forwards to put his chest to the floor, his arms laid out in a position of obedience and compliance,

“I’m sorry, sir.” He breathed, trembling minutely. Jude stared at him, dumbfounded. The demon’s strength was visible in the shifting muscles of his back and Jude knew that the hands that were pressed to the floor were capable of killing him in a dozen of different ways, and yet, the demon was here, at Jude's feet.

Jude looked at him and saw a tiger bowing to a circus master; conditioned to fear the whip in the small, smug man’s hand so that it would never realize the natural power it held in the sinews of its magnificent body.

Sickness rose up Jude’s throat and he swallowed thickly, turning away from the demon whose spirit had been so thoroughly broken.

It had been his order. His responsibility. His carelessness that caused the demon such pain. It had been his fault.

“Get out.” He said, his voice cracking. The demon moved instantly, fluidly, to stand. His composure and grace crushed Jude with a sense of his own inferiority and he pressed his hands to his face as the demon closed the door behind him with a meek click. Jude wished that he’d slammed it.