Joel Waters-Baker (
just_another) wrote2014-11-12 01:49 pm
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november 25 (tw: violence, language, scary demon stuff)
Tomorrow, when he has time to sit and think about what's happened while he lies in a hospital bed, Joel will tell Spencer that it felt like a switch going off in his mind. One moment he was there, he was in control, and then something flipped a switch inside him and suddenly he wasn't. One moment he was muttering curses under his breath because he'd sloshed hot coffee on his hand while trying to close his travel mug and the next he hadn't felt the pain because he hadn't felt anything.
The mug drops, the plastic exterior cracking where it hits the kitchen floor. Coffee spills over the tiles, over Joel's shoes, it splashes the cupboards and one of the kitchen chairs, but Joel doesn't notice because he's not in control anymore. He's still there, he's still inside, and he's screaming, feeling as though he's pounding his fists against a door that doesn't really exist because he's trapped inside himself. The walls are closing in on him, the walls of himself, the walls of the demon, just walls, and he can't explain it, but he's being pressed down smaller and smaller until he can't breathe.
The demon has taken over.
Joel can't feel his body, but he can feel it. It pushes at his mind, probing curiously and he screams again, but it doesn't make a sound. It only echoes inside him somehow and Joel spends several minutes in such a state of terror that he thinks he blacks out. If such a thing is at all possible when he's not really in control of his body, he doesn't know, but there's a gap in time Joel doesn't remember.
When he comes to, he can feel pain again. He's not in control, not by any means, but there's a shrieking pain in the fingers of his left hand and when he's allowed to look down, he sees three of them are swollen and an angry red.
You're so delicate. No wonder I killed her so swiftly.
The voice is worse than the pain in his fingers could ever be. It's ancient and it's eternal and it's endless. It's like being pierced by something burning hot, something dull and ragged that slips in between his ribs and wiggles back and forth, tearing skin and burning his insides and Joel goes away again.
This time when he regains consciousness, there's silence. His fingers throb and ache and when he looks down at them, it looks as if they've been slammed in a door.
They have been.
The voice is different this time. It's still like something hot and sharp being driven into him, but the demon is restraining itself somehow. The voice has been pulled back and Joel finds he can withstand it a little better. It's still awful and he's still terrified, trapped in a body he can't control, unable to call for help, unable to let anyone know what's happened.
And what would they do? the thing asks. Your witches are not equipped to handle me.
Joel can't answer, he only retreats and feels sick, knowing sooner or later Spencer is going to wonder why he isn't at work. Sooner or later, Spencer is going to come looking for him and this is what he's going to find. A monster in the place of his husband. A monster intent on experimenting with his body to see what he can withstand.
There's a lighter in his right hand, the flame sparks to life. Joel watches silently as it's brought closer and closer to his skin and he feels the pain sear through him, but he can't stop.
He isn't in control anymore.
The mug drops, the plastic exterior cracking where it hits the kitchen floor. Coffee spills over the tiles, over Joel's shoes, it splashes the cupboards and one of the kitchen chairs, but Joel doesn't notice because he's not in control anymore. He's still there, he's still inside, and he's screaming, feeling as though he's pounding his fists against a door that doesn't really exist because he's trapped inside himself. The walls are closing in on him, the walls of himself, the walls of the demon, just walls, and he can't explain it, but he's being pressed down smaller and smaller until he can't breathe.
The demon has taken over.
Joel can't feel his body, but he can feel it. It pushes at his mind, probing curiously and he screams again, but it doesn't make a sound. It only echoes inside him somehow and Joel spends several minutes in such a state of terror that he thinks he blacks out. If such a thing is at all possible when he's not really in control of his body, he doesn't know, but there's a gap in time Joel doesn't remember.
When he comes to, he can feel pain again. He's not in control, not by any means, but there's a shrieking pain in the fingers of his left hand and when he's allowed to look down, he sees three of them are swollen and an angry red.
You're so delicate. No wonder I killed her so swiftly.
The voice is worse than the pain in his fingers could ever be. It's ancient and it's eternal and it's endless. It's like being pierced by something burning hot, something dull and ragged that slips in between his ribs and wiggles back and forth, tearing skin and burning his insides and Joel goes away again.
This time when he regains consciousness, there's silence. His fingers throb and ache and when he looks down at them, it looks as if they've been slammed in a door.
They have been.
The voice is different this time. It's still like something hot and sharp being driven into him, but the demon is restraining itself somehow. The voice has been pulled back and Joel finds he can withstand it a little better. It's still awful and he's still terrified, trapped in a body he can't control, unable to call for help, unable to let anyone know what's happened.
And what would they do? the thing asks. Your witches are not equipped to handle me.
Joel can't answer, he only retreats and feels sick, knowing sooner or later Spencer is going to wonder why he isn't at work. Sooner or later, Spencer is going to come looking for him and this is what he's going to find. A monster in the place of his husband. A monster intent on experimenting with his body to see what he can withstand.
There's a lighter in his right hand, the flame sparks to life. Joel watches silently as it's brought closer and closer to his skin and he feels the pain sear through him, but he can't stop.
He isn't in control anymore.
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"Is this... everything?" Joel manages to ask and he's surprised he can speak, but nothing makes sense anymore. There doesn't seem to be any set of rules except that the demon is afraid of Spencer. It's the only thing that remains consistent. Sometimes the anger of the demon is directed at Joel, sometimes it's directed at Spencer and just now it had been directed at Coop. Sometimes he can speak and sometimes he can't. Sometimes he can move and sometimes he's treated like a puppet. Nothing makes sense and Joel knows they can't rely on anything, so he's going to take what he's being given him and he's going to use it as best he can. If he can speak, then Coop can follow what's happening and maybe it can benefit them all. Somehow.
"Is this everything you... can do?" he asks, his voice grinding out like it's old and been misused. "Is... this all... you ha-" His words are cut off in a choked off scream as his arm is jerked behind his body, wrenched until he can feel his fingers going numb. It helps more than it hinders him, though, numbing the pain in his broken bones.
"I have eons of pain upon which to draw," the demon says using Joel's mouth, but the voice isn't his and it's a strange, surreal experience to have, knowing his mouth is moving, knowing the words are coming out of him but hearing them in a voice that sounds like nothing he's ever heard before. "I have inexhaustible resources with which to torture you and I will. I will until you stop trying to save his life."
But he'll never stop. He will never stop and the demon has to know that. It's why his arm is still twisted behind his back, why the muscles in his shoulder and back are beginning to scream in protest, but he doesn't beg and he doesn't make a sound. The longer he can keep this thing distracted, the better chance Coop has of getting Spencer up and that's what he needs right now. He needs Spencer. He needs the rest of them, too, he needs them all to be here because he knows there's no hope of doing this alone.
"You... know that isn't... going to happen," Joel manages to say. He staggers a little on his feet and he's still staring at Coop and Spencer, but he doesn't know if that's because he wants to be looking at them or because the demon is making him look at them. Either way, it's what he needs. He's waiting to see Spencer's eyes open, he's waiting for that moment to know he can let go. He's waiting for the others to arrive and he needs Spencer or Coop or both to be conscious so they can invite them in. If he has to wait like this for the rest of the day to make sure nothing happens to his husband, he will. He'll take every moment, every ounce of pain being fed into his body and he'll take it happily.
He's about to say something else, he's about to issue another challenge to distract the demon further from Spencer and Coop when there's a sound at the door and his body is whirled around to face whoever is coming up the front steps.
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It was the closest to the real thing Les had had since her death, and the seventeen year old in him, the kid that had been scared and confused when she passed, even though he tried his damnest to never ever say that, he had loved it. Even if it wasn't real. He has been trying to just forget about it, but it isn't easy. It feels like in a way he's lost her all over again. It hurts deep inside of his chest when he thinks about it too hard. Maybe that's why he didn't change his mind about tonight. Dealing with someone else's problems seemed a way to get his mind back in the right place.
For a little while atleast.
Coop had texted him an address a few hours ago, and he makes his way across town. He sees a couple cars parked put front, and he climbs the steps onto the porch. There is a dim light on in the window but the house is very quiet. He senses something might already be happening and he decides not to knock. Trying the handle, he turns the knob and opens the front door. His eyes go to Coop first...and he tries to access from the doorway whether his friend is okay despite the injuries he sees. Then he looks at the other man, the libriarian. He is on the floor. There's blood.
"Looks like the party started without me," Les finally takes in the third man. They aren't friends, but Les can tell this is Joel. Les senses the evil resting beneath the surface, filling out his skin. Joel is wrong. "Are there gonna be snacks? Vanquishing demons always makes me a little hungry."
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He wonders if maybe he's losing his mind. Just a little bit. If having the demon inside him is making him go crazy and if that might help them. The less he cares about himself, the more invested he is in making sure the others are safe, in making this invader inside him as angry as possible, maybe the better chance they have. It feels a little bit like giving up, but Joel feels everything inside him slip another notch and he thinks maybe it's not like that at all. Maybe letting himself go a little is what's going to make it easier to come back.
"Come inside," he says as quickly as he possibly can, before the demon can recover from the genuine amusement Joel had felt for just a moment. "You have to invite Nerium, too, I might not be ab-" And his arm is wrenched harder still, pulled behind him until something in his shoulder pops and he doesn't think it's broken, he doesn't think it's even been wrenched out of place, but it hurts an Joel grinds his teeth together as his body is suddenly flung back, dropped in a heap beside Spencer.
And he looks over then, he looks at his husband and even though he can feel the demon starting to regain control, he smiles. Spencer is so strong and so brave and he's right here with Joel. No matter what happens, he was the first one to come. He'll always be the first one to come and Joel's good hand inches over toward him, the tips of his fingers brushing the outer edge of Spencer's hand just as he'd done that day in the park. "Come back," he murmurs, as if that alone will be enough to wake Spencer up. "Please come back."
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"Nerium, sweetheart. I know you're probably at home---" Les waves his hand lazily. Even though he's talking to a room without Nerium in it, she'll hear him. It's a benefit of being his soulbearer. "--- busy doing whatever it is you do on a Tuesday night. I dunno. Evil knitting? But now's a good time for a visit. Like right now," he says. Now that he's summoned Nerium, he knows she'll come.
In the meantime, he looks down at the demon with a knowing smile. It has two problems. One, Joel doesn't look ready to give up. Les suspects the main reason has something to do with the man laying beside him. Two, since returning from the cave, Les hasn't been able to sleep. Memories, real memories of his mother are haunting him, and he is trying to be but he isn't okay. He was up to three a.m. reading every text in his basement that had anything in them about demons or vanquishing spells. No matter what they are getting rid of this asshole demon tonight.
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The door opens and she stands there, black scarves and dress billowing around her, and it slams behind her just as quickly. The gore and blood is of no surprise. In honesty, she had expected worse. That all those in the room remain alive is of great fortune, and one that is shaky at best.
She finds the nearest table and begins laying ou an assortment of objects. Vials and herbs and all manner of implements of every color. Candles. A jeweled dagger. And a small black box, carved of stone from another realm. And with that, she waltzes over to Leslie.
"You look well enough. I am glad you have returned. I trust your redhead found you. She was in quite a state."
And with that, she turns in a great circle, spitting soundless words and twisting her arms until the room shapes and bends and the windows outside now show only a black void. "I have separated us into a pocket between realms. No harm shall spread outside of these walls. And the demon shall not be able to draw power outside of here, so long as it holds."
Her eyes narrow as she peers at Joel and the casualties of the day. "What efforts have been made thus far? Has the demon taken over completely, or is Joel still responsive? I trust you are aware that a simple exorcism would have no effect on a being so old as he."
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He sits back up on his knees, keeping one hand hovering gently over Spencer's injured shoulder, but before he can check on Joel or say anything else, Les is saying some nonsense about evil knitting or some shit that Coop doesn't understand until Nerium's standing in the doorway. "Glad you two feel like there's room for pleasantries but hi, demon, remember?"
Coop hasn't really talked to too many people since the time they'd spent in the cave, mostly because he's still just trying to get his bearings, still trying to ignore all the realizations that had hit him while he'd been sitting in there with the knowledge that none of them might make it out back out. He feels Spencer start to stir again beneath him, and he's thankful for it because it's a distraction, it's anything to keep him from thinking about that cave because even just looking at Les reminds him. He knows he hadn't suffered as long as some of the others there, hadn't seen the same sorts of things his friends had that had lured them into that cave, but he knows he's one of the few who's made the choice to deal with it alone. Sometime it's just easier that way.
Joel and Spencer, on the other hand, are very much not alone. He leans down again, huffing out a relieved laugh when Spencer's eyelids flutter, and he turns his head to look at Nerium so he can answer her questions. "He's in and out," he tells her, eyes flickering back to Joel to see if he's still responsive now. His friend's eyes look blank but his fingers are still brushing against Spencer's, so Coop can only assume that Joel's still doing his best to fight for as long as he can to buy them some time. It's up to them to help him carry the rest of this load.
"Joel, please..."
Coop winces at Spencer's words, at the way Spencer's trying to move and then at how he cries out in pain when he rolls onto his back, eyes flying wide open from the pain. "Hey, Spence, I know it hurts but you gotta stay with us, okay? Joel needs you, we need you now, so you have to stay awake. You can hear him, right, Joel? Just hold on, we got you."
He helps Spencer into a sitting position in spite of the other man's pleas, looking back to Nerium. "It was speaking in Latin, I don't know what it said. We need to find a way to get the damn thing out of him first, and I think-- Spencer, whatever you were doing to piss it off, you need to keep doing it. That's the only way we're going to be able to banish it."
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"I- fuck," he spits out and he isn't prone to cursing, but his body is lifted off the floor and something twists him, like a dish cloth being wrung out, and Joel feels his fractured rib grating. It's sharp, like being stabbed with something that burns through his torso and all he can do is hope that it's just the movement, that his rib hasn't started to puncture anything important. He wants to be able to tell Les and Nerium what's been going on, how they can get this thing out of him, but he's in so much pain that he can't breathe.
He's just hovering there again, suspended in the air, his broken hand dangling at his side. His hips are twisted and Joel can still feel that horrible pain burning through his side, but suddenly it's gone. Suddenly he's just hanging there, limp and in pain, but nothing is twisting his body anymore, but he's not fool enough to think it's gone.
"It's scared of Spencer," he manages to blurt out, his voice hoarse, his throat ragged. "It's scared. It hates him." And he knows why. This thing that can't feel love, can't feel anything but pain and hate, it's afraid of what Spencer makes him feel. "He can get it out, I know he can." And then they can do whatever they need.
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It is an awe-inspiring sight, the power of the demon, and while Nerium has danced with many, she has never been in the presence of a true possession. Not that she does not know what to do. Just as she knows fighting this great nameless diety from before civilization itself will do no good. He must be revered. There are ceremonials and sacrifices which much be observed.
"It is good there are five of us here. We must form a pentagram. Joel will be the head" She moves to shift Spencer, then Coop, and Les, into position, each forming a point. "We must form a pentagram. Joel will be the head. Spencer and I will be the uppermost points at his side."
"You must know, there will need be sacrifice." Nerium is lighting candles, lines of them between each point. The box is the most important piece. That with which she can contain the demon. With which she can harness his power of her own. But that will be last. "The barriers must be made with the blood of the points." She takes the jeweled dagger and a ceremonial bowl of bone, passing it first to Leslie. "The palm of your hand shall suffice."
"And I must have your agreement, that with my help, I shall be allowed to leave here with whatever I so wish."
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Nerium speaks again and he rolls his eyes. Of course, she doesn't work for free.
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There's movement beside him, and Spencer finally turns his head to look, regretting it instantly because the pain in his head only worsens. He holds a palm to his forehead, letting out a groan and trying desperately to keep from crying because this isn't the time, not right now, not when Joel needs him to stay strong. He'd heard Joel say it, that the demon hates him, that he can get the demon out, and Spencer can only hope that he's as capable as Joel believes him to be. His hand trembles as he lowers it, reaching for the bowl that Les is holding out, but before he can manage to take hold of it, Coop has already crossed over from his place in the pentagram to take the bowl. His friend takes hold of the knife, cutting into his palm and dripping his blood into the bowl before ducking down to find Spencer's eyes, giving him a tight, encouraging smile.
"You can do this," Coop tells him, and Spencer's nod would be imperceptible if Coop hadn't been watching so closely. Coop nods back, satisfied, then holds the bowl out for Nerium to take. "That's enough. It has to be." He jerks his head toward Spencer. "He's already lost enough blood, got it? Just let him do what he needs to do."
Spencer blinks slowly, watching Coop return to his place in the pentagram, and there's no helping the tear that rolls down his cheek. It's not until he hears that laugh again, that awful laugh that comes from Joel but isn't Joel because he's never heard such a sound escape his husband. The demon is fighting hard for control, but it can't have fully regained it if it hasn't struck out yet and that gives Spencer a renewed sense of purpose.
"You can have whatever you want, Nerium," he says, voice hoarse as if he hasn't used it in a long time, "just make sure that thing can't hurt him anymore." His eyes meet Joel's again, searching desperately for a sign that his husband is there and finding nothing. His shoulder throbs, his back aches, his head pounds, but in this moment, Spencer doesn't care. He'd journey through every circle of hell and back for one man, for this man, and he can feel the tears streaming freely now but it's because there's nothing left to hold him back. He needs Joel, he needs his husband back whole, and if he's the only one who can lure the demon out then so be it. He won't stop trying until he's dead.
"'"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit,'" he recites softly. "'"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."' We're Real, Joel. This is Real, you and me. Forget everything else, just for a minute, and concentrate on my voice. 'Once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.' For always, baby, that's what we are." He voice is trembling but he carries on, unwilling to stop because he's so afraid that if he stops for just a second, the demon will win and he can't let that happen. "I need you here, I need you with me because I can't do this without you, I don't know how anymore." He wants to close the gap between himself and Joel, wants to forget the pain and pull his husband down to the ground, anchor him in a hug and shower him with all the love and affection that he deserves, but he doesn't want to ruin whatever Nerium might have planned.
"I need you to come back so we can be Real together because we have a future planned, remember? We have--" His eyes widen as he remembers, this news that he'd come to tell Joel in the first place, this news that he'd let fall from his mind because he's been watching this demon destroy the one person in this world that he loves beyond all else. "We have a baby, Joel. We have a baby, we're going to have a baby, she's pregnant. Oh, god. Oh, god, you can't leave me here alone, do you understand me? You can't because I need you, our child is going to need you, Dane or Rose, we-- We need you here with us so you have to keep fighting, I know you're trying so hard, but you have to try harder so our baby can see how lucky they are to have you as a father, okay? God, Joel, please, just come back to me."
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He can tell that Spencer is in pain, that he's struggling, but he stands anyway and he begins to quote from the Velveteen Rabbit and Joel can feel something happening inside of him. Later, he won't really be able to explain it. There's rage and there's a strong sense of something inside him wanting to stake its claim, but there's fear, too. The demon is afraid, the demon hates what Spencer is doing and Joel thinks maybe this is the moment. Maybe this is when the demon's hold on him is weakest, because for longer Spencer speaks, the more in control he feels.
Suddenly the force holding him up is gone and Joel's body drops to the floor again. He lets out a cry of pain, his broken wrist taking most of his weight before he collapses on the floor, but he's more in control than he's been since this started and he's ready. He has to do it. He's ready to fight. But Spencer isn't finished. Joel is ready, but Spencer isn't finished speaking and for a moment he's stunned to the point where he can't speak, he can't move. Even if he had complete control of himself right now, he knows he wouldn't be able to move because this news is unbelievable.
They're going to have a baby.
Inside him it feels like something snaps. He can feel the demon scrambling for control, trying to take over, screaming in fury and fear, and Joel almost wants to smile. This is it, this is exactly what he needed and he manages to push himself slowly to his feet, standing in his place in the pentagon and he knows it probably looks like nothing, but inside it feels like a war. He has control, but it's tenuous, and he's afraid if he stops fighting, if he gives even an inch he'll lose it again and he can't. He can't.
Long scratches appear on his arms and he can feel them happening on the inside, his skin being torn open, but it's desperate. Joel can feel just how desperate the demon is and he almost laughs. Instead, he summons all his strength, all his energy, all his courage, and he draws in a deep breath and orders, "Get out!"
At first nothing happens and then Joel feels it, a sudden absence, a lack of something that's been inside him for as long as he can remember. From behind him a shadow unfurls, enormous and dark and faceless. If he could turn, he would recognize it as the thing that had taken Amy the night she had died, but he can't. All he can do is stand there, the cuts on his arms slowly bleeding, feeling this thing leaking out of him bit by bit as it fills the room instead.
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Another would have found Spencer's display touching. Nerium has her sights only on completing the ritual. The power of love, however, does not wholly escape her.
In her hands she holds the box. Its black stone emanates an otherwordly glow as she opens it and she calls out to the demon. At first, her words are mere vocalizations to the untrained ear. Whispers and chanting and utterances that sounds like little more than wind. By the time she is done, she appears taller, to stand straighter, and she looks straight into the faceless ageless thing.
"Oh great deity, demon of the darkness that gave birth to us all. Your chaos gives us life. Your laughter is our sustenance. We bow before your great power. I beseech you, I plead you. Return to your obsidian castle. That which existed before the dirt and rocks which form this very earth. You have no vessel now,but you do have a home. And you shall be worshiped and loved and hated as you deserve to be. Come to me, oh great one. And may the whispers of the fear and conflict of this world call out your name as you return home."
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The house holds study and so does everyone else. When Nerium finishes her call to the demon, Les concentrates on the magic radiating from the black stone in her hands. It's up to the demon now to leave this world, but Les decides they are being awfully kind to this thing. He uses his own magic to create a white light, something bright and pure. It expands slowly across the room, pushing the blackness backwards, trapping it between him and Nerium. Les' light pushes and squeezes when it touches the faceless black shape, causing it to scream a eerie screech of pain.
"You running out of options. Time for you to go back home," he demands, holding his hands out steady, building more light in the room until there is no where left for it to run except too the stone waiting in Nerium's hands.