Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For his eighteenth birthday, Roman was expecting the sort of things that most kids his age got. A party, some money, maybe going out and getting super drunk now that he was legal. Probably a talk from his dad about how he was a ‘man’ now whatever that actually meant. Lots of broken up memories and then back to college to complete his degree, then get out there and see his name in lights. He was going to become a star, he was going to make it on Broadway and sing his heart out to thousands of adoring fans.

Roman had it all worked out and as excited as he was for his eighteenth birthday and the fact that it would be a day all about him - which was never a bad day in his eyes - it wasn’t the only important milestone in his life coming up or even the biggest one. He was still hopeful for some good presents of course, there were a couple of shows he was desperate to go and see, and Roman could only pray that his parents had gotten him tickets to one of them.

In his wildest dreams, he was hoping for a car but Roman was more of a realist than either of his parents probably thought and he knew that there was no way they could actually afford one, not with all of any extra money going into helping him get his degree. Roman had tried to refuse the money, had gotten a part time job to help pay for college but they had been adamant that they wanted to support him and that he should focus all his attention on his studies. Roman wasn’t sure how he had managed to get such great parents, but he certainly wasn’t complaining - even if he did quite often feel guilt at the thought of what they had to be doing to help him afford college.

So no, he didn’t think he was going to really get a car. Sure, he still hoped for one, but he wasn’t going to be upset when his big day came and went without a new key to add to his keychain.

Not when he got to at least spend some decent time with his family and really that was a gift in its own right. He had come back for the holidays, bringing a whole bag load of work that had to be done over the break and subconscious suspicions about the weird behaviour of his parents. That vague feeling had soon crystallised into a firm conviction that something very strange was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

His parents had been acting funny for months now. Looking back, Roman couldn’t quite remember when he had first noticed the shift in their behaviour, when it had become something worthy of noticing and not just his parents being them. They had always been a little funny, a little odd compared to his friends parents. His mother had always been a little more wild than other mothers he had seen, often blunt and to the point, the sort of women the rest probably all secretly wished they could be. She had never been afraid to speak her mind and tell someone when they were being an idiot just as she had never been shy of telling someone when they had done something good, when they deserved a hug or a kiss, a reminder of how proud she was of her son.

His father had always said it was because she hadn’t grown up in America, but in Europe where her family had been in a position of real power once upon a time. Apparently they had lost that position a long time ago but a strain of the knowledge of power remained within them, a subconscious tic that influenced a lot of their behaviour. Roman could believe that, his mother had always been a Queen to him, someone to look up to, someone who was regal and sure of herself in a way that Roman envied. She had always promised that one day they would go and visit her family but somehow it had just never happened.

His father was another matter completely. He had always been supportive of Roman, always agreed with him and let him make his own way. He guided him but he had never been like other parents Roman had known, had never demanded he be a mini me, the sort of son that he had already imagined in his head. Whereas most boys parents had pushed their sons into sport and nothing else, Roman’s father had taken a somewhat more laid back approach, had given Roman the tools and the chance to try various activities without ever once complaining. Even when Roman had temporarily really gotten into astronomy and so needed to go to events at two, three in the morning, his father had never once complained about having to get up for that time and drive him there and back.

As much as Roman had wanted to do sport and theatre, he had known that he wouldn’t be able to give both the focus that he so badly wanted to. It was be okay at both or possibly be stunning at one. And while Roman enjoyed football, it was nothing compared to the rush he felt whenever he stepped out onto the stage in the guise of another.

Theatre it was.

They had shown up to every performance, front and center, cheering and screaming their support with looks of utmost pride on their faces. They had been any child’s dream parents the day he had come out to them as Gay, his mother trying her best to look surprised but Roman by then was too good of an actor to be fooled by what was a very poor imitation of shocked innocence. They accepted him, they always had and that was the only thing that really mattered to Roman.

Maybe they were odd by any ‘normal’ measuring scheme, maybe it was considered weird for but they were his parents and he loved them to death. He wouldn’t have them any other way.

Their assumed oddity still didn’t explain their weird behaviour lately.

For a start, they had insisted that he celebrated his birthday almost two weeks early, only a few days after he had gotten home. His mother had said it was because he had been late coming into the world and so she wanted to celebrate the day he was meant to arrive as well as the day he actually did which made no sense since she had never shown any interest in celebrating in that manner before but if it meant he got two birthday parties and two times he was the center of attention then he wasn’t going to really complain about it.

Roman had caught his mother crying after the party. She claimed it was because she was so overcome with emotion, with pride and joy and the realisation that her baby boy was all grown up. That he really was about to turn eighteen and the years had just flown by in a few blinks.

Maybe it was the truth. Or maybe she had just gotten better at lying to him over the years, and Roman wasn’t sure which unsettled him the most, that she would suddenly become so sentimental or that she was able to hide something important from him.

It wasn’t just the party that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end though. The weird behaviour went back earlier than that. Months and months of hushed meetings he had walked in on on the rare occasions he was home, stilted phone conversations and an unseen weight to every single word and glance.

At the time, Roman had thought perhaps they were planning something super special for his birthday. Perhaps he was actually getting a car. Then his thoughts had turned less positive because Roman was an actor at heart with dreams of being on Broadway. He could tell when someone was pretending to be happy and although he couldn’t work out any details or point to any one moment to prove his theory, he knew the truth.

For whatever reason, his parents weren’t happy.

Were they fighting?

Was one of them ill?

Did they have money troubles because Roman had selfishly let them help him?

The possibilities felt endless and along with being an actor, he was a creator, he lived and breathed new ideas, spinning world after world of new events. It wasn’t hard to take what little information he had and leap to possibly the worst conclusions possible. Something was going on, something bad and it was driving him mad that he didn’t know what.

Roman woke up on the morning of his birthday with what felt like a dozen rocks settled awkwardly in his stomach, a weight that he couldn’t seem to dispel. It was his birthday, it was meant to be a good day and yet dread seemed to lurk at the back of every thought. The feeling of unease carried on throughout the day, a doom that only seemed to grow more intense whenever he caught one of his parents looking in his direction with deep sorrow instead of joy. They were meant to be happy on this day of all days.

So was he. Not tormented by some unknown dread, nerves which coiled in his stomach as though snakes had strangled any butterflies that might reside there.

There was going to be a party later tonight. His parents had wanted his friends to throw it earlier in the day, and they had pushed for that, had seemed so determined for it but some of them were out of town and wouldn’t be back until later. Roman wasn’t going to celebrate his birthday without all of them. He only turned eighteen once after all and he wanted all the important people in his life to be there, no matter what weird excuses his father had as to why they should hold it sooner.

Roman had held firm and eventually they had accepted defeat, although his father had looked almost unbearably sad at knowing it would be in the evening. Try as Roman might, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, his mind twisting and turning in on itself as he futility struggled to come up with any explanation as to their behaviour.

He needed to talk to them. All this dancing around the subject was driving him mad and Roman couldn’t get through another moment like this. He certainly couldn’t imagine enjoying his party with the worry about what was really going on lingering in the back of his mind. Roman was brave. He could do this. No matter what the outcome might be. At least he would know the truth and once he had that, Roman could face it. He would be able to overcome it.

A plan always made things easier, even when the plan was as vague and ill thought out as this one. At least it was something, Roman placing down the script he had been failing to read down on the bed and heading downstairs.

Carefully, he crept down the stairs of the family home. Growing up in this house had taught him how to be sneaky, which stairs made noises and which sides he could safely step on to avoid any telltale creaks which would betray him. Roman had eaten more than his fair share of midnight snacks thanks to this knowledge and it was coming in handy once more. At the bottom of the stairs he turned and started stealthy creeping along to the kitchen. A low murmur of voices came to his ears as he moved close.

“-e should have told him years ago Ailsa, not waited until the very last day, the very last moment. It’s cruel.”

That was his father’s voice. Roman tried to hold his breath as he inched forward, acutely aware of every tiny little noise that he made, and even his breathing sounded awfully loud now that he was this close to finding out the truth. It was hard to stop breathing, move and listen all at the same time, so perhaps it wasn’t too surprising that he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Told him? How could we have had that conversation? How could we have possibly explained what we did to him in a way that he would have understood? It was better to wait.”

His mother now, Roman frowning a little as he listened, trying to understand what on earth they were talking about. It sounded as if he was the reason they were so upset?

What had he done?

Sure, he had gotten into his fair share of trouble over the years, and had probably caused them all manner of heartache and worry because he was their son and that was what kids tended to do. But Roman couldn’t think of anything serious, anything really bad. He was a pretty good kid, all things considered and it didn’t sit right with him to think he had caused them any real kind of pain.

Not to mention their words didn’t make sense if they were upset at him. It seemed more about him but somehow separate from anything he had done. They sounded upset rather than angry at him. At least his father did. His mother seemed to be wavering on the line between furious and devastated, he could hear the waver and crack in her voice in almost every word.

His heart was thudding against his rib-cage, and it was a wonder they couldn’t hear that, it was louder even than the wheezing gasps of air he could hear as he tried - and failed - to be quiet.

Both of them seemed too caught up in their own argument to notice though, Roman finally reaching the edge of the doorway and peering through the gap at them. They were stood in the kitchen face to face. His mother was standing with her back to him, arms moving as she spoke, each word accompanied by a sharp gesture but he couldn’t see her face, her expression. His dad’s face was angled a little away from her, gaze half on the countertop beside them both.

Roman wished he couldn’t see his father’s expression. He looked defeated, as if they were talking about something truly serious. Even from this distance and through the glasses he was wearing, it was easy to see the pain in his father’s pale brown eyes, the playful spark he associated with the older man nowhere to be seen. Roman couldn’t help but inch just a fraction further out of cover, trying to get a better view as if the rest of the empty kitchen would somehow provide the clues he needed to understand what on earth was happening.

It was a good thing they were too focused on what they were fighting about, otherwise his dad would have surely have seen him out of the corner of his eye. Roman had never been the greatest at subtlety. As it was, they both carried on talking, his dad’s tone slipping into something resigned, pained.

“And this way is better? It would have given him time to prepare at least, it would have let him try to come to terms with it, rather than just letting... that thing show up and take what it wants.”

Thing? What thing? Take what? Did they owe a loan shark some money? It sounded impossible but then before the last few months he would have thought spying on his parents to uncover some truth instead of being able to talk to them face to face. They had always been a weird family in that they had actually liked each other, had been able to sit down and have conversations about the hard things.

Roman had never thought he had taken it for granted, he looked at some of his friends relationships with their parents and counted himself truly blessed. They gave him a safe haven from which to start from and Roman had never stopped being aware and grateful for it.

Now that port was gone and he was lost in strange waters.

Maybe they had taken out a loan? Maybe the bank had refused them and in desperation they had turned to some shady figure from the underworld and now it was time to repay it with interest or else... or else something bad? Something involving him it seemed and while it did still sound like something out a cheap thriller paperback, that didn't make it impossible.

People made foolhardy deals they couldn't pay all time to try and get out the problem of the moment. He wouldn't have counted his parents among those sorts of people but Roman couldn't ignore the evidence that was building up with each passing second. Roman knew he should have gotten a job and just managed. He should have refused the money and not given in. Why had he given in? Why had he let himself believe that they could somehow manage to support his education on top of everything else?

“Time to prepare? To come to terms? That implies that we have given up and I have never given up on finding some way to save him. I will never give up. There has to be a way, something we can do to stop this James.”

“We have been searching for over twenty years, if there is an answer don’t you think one of us would have found it by now? Maybe if you had tried harder to convince your parents to give us access to their library then we wouldn’t be in this mess to start with!”

“That isn’t fair James! Don’t you dare say I didn’t give everything I could to try and get the answers we needed. I ripped my family apart for you and I would do it again for our own family if I for one second thought we could get what we need from it.”

As Roman watched, his dad’s shoulder slumped, almost as though the words had actually hit him instead of merely being spoken aloud. He seemed to physically age ten years in a matter of seconds, looking so unbearably sad that it physically caused an ache in his heart. Roman had never imagined it would be possible to look at his father and feel this much pain.

James reached out, hand catching one of Ailsa’s own which were still moving in rapid little angry motions, each word accompanied by a point and jab. Her hand looked so pale against his much darker one, and Roman was almost convinced he wasn’t imagining it, that she really was so white. Even in sorrow, she was beautiful, his throat closing up a little as he stared at her, so pale, so lost.

“I’m sorry. It's not your fault they are who they are and couldn’t accept us,” James told her softly. Ailsa’s only response was a sharp intake of breath, the noise almost cutting through the air. Roman’s frown grew as he listened and this was making less and less sense. He felt more confused than he did before he had decided to eavesdrop. The urge to just stride in there and demand answers was almost overwhelming but they were talking about a secret to do with him. A secret that couldn’t be a loan shark, because why would they have needed money that long ago and only now have to worry about the outcome.

Plus, from the way they were talking, it was as though his mother’s family didn’t approve of them. Was that why they had never visited? Nothing to do with time but everything to do with the fact that they wouldn’t be welcome? He hoped they weren’t mad because James was just an American boy and they were quasi royal.

Roman loved being almost but not quite royalty. He had spent a whole summer dressed as a prince and refused to get out of the outfit. His mother had found it hilarious and even his father had merely rolled his eyes but he went out and got him a wooden sword the next day. If it turned out they didn’t approve of his father simply because he wasn’t royal, then Roman was going to have to give up all his princey outfits, crowns and behaviour. He would hate that but it was something he would do in a flash. What was fake royalty - or even real royalty - compared to family? How could they have ever picked anything over their daughter and the man she loved?

“We are out of time. He is out of time Ailsa. He deserves to face it head on. Let him have that.”

“I am not going to lose my baby boy to some... some... jumped up bailiff who thinks he can just march in here and take him!” She shook her head as she spoke, long dark hair bouncing this way and that with the motion. It was almost mesmerising and any other time Roman might have allowed himself to do just that and let her relax him. Not this time though. He couldn’t afford it this time and Roman couldn’t take hiding in the shadows any longer. They were talking about him and from the way they were talking, it was as though he was going to die or something ridiculous. As it he was somehow the collateral in whatever debt they owed.

He needed to know what they meant, his brain spinning all manner of ridiculous ideas the longer he stood there. It was time to be a hero, Roman straightening up and striding into the room without any further delay, making sure his footsteps were loud and confident. Even if he didn’t personally feel that, he knew he had to act it. Fake it, till you make it.

“Mother. Father.”

“Roman! How... um... how much did you hear son?” Somehow, impossibly, his mother’s face had managed to turn a few shades whiter as she spun to look at him with a mixture of horror and fear. Another expression to add to the list of ones that he had never wanted to see on his parent’s face, Roman’s jaw tensing tightly as he stared at them both and tried to disguise his own hurt and confusion that they would be hiding something apparently important from him.

“Not enough. What is going on?”

“Going on?” His mother’s smile was pained and wasn’t one of her best. He couldn’t help but feel a little insulted that she was trying to lie to him after all this time, after she knew he had heard something. “Why would anything be going on Roman?”

“Oh for the love of- Ailsa we have to tell him. It’s time. Stop this foolishness,” his father snapped, lifting a hand to run through greying hair in an agitated fashion, something so familiar it made Roman’s heart hurt in a completely different way.

It was the one thing he understood in this alien landscape, a comforting motion that promised the way home if only he were to follow it. Everything else was confusing, but here was a little reminder that this was still his father, that he was still the man Roman knew and loved so much. Not everything was different after all and the hand in hair was almost enough to distract him from the situation. Almost.

Roman had never heard his father to use such a tone with his mother before, they weren’t the sort of couple that fought. They had disagreements sure, silly little arguments but nothing serious, nothing like this. He wasn’t really sure what he expected to happen next. His mother to rise up to her - admittedly not very tall - height and snap back? For it to devolve into the kind of shouting match that so many of his friends had been forced to witness with their parents? For her to retreat into somewhere cold and unforgiving where his father wouldn’t be able to follow? He didn’t expect his mother’s face to crumple into one of utter agony or break down into tears, hands lifting to press against her face as her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

Helplessly, he turned to look at his father, silently begging for answers and for him to comfort his mother, to make all this pain go away. Roman was sorry he asked, sorry he had pushed because whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good.

The older man slowly pulled off his glasses, absently cleaning the lenses. He tended to do that whenever he was trying to find the words to explain something, when he was groping in the dark and needed an extra few seconds to try and work out how to say something. Roman could feel a weight in his chest, like an impossibly heavy rock pressing down on him. It was getting heavier and heavier by the second, gravity weighing more on it, battling against his need to breathe.

Something was coming, something terrible and inescapable. Maybe it was just Roman being over dramatic as he was wont to be, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this birthday was going to turn out to be far more important than simply him reaching official ‘adulthood’. Whatever that actually meant in practise. There was something else here in the air around them, an electric shock that he could all but stick out his tongue and taste. Unconsciously, Roman leaned forward a fraction, eyes wide as he waited with baited breath. His father slipped the glasses back on his face, expression solemn.

“We... we made a deal with a demon and the price demanded was our first born... was you.”

Whatever Roman had been expecting, it had never even come close to that.

“... okay, you got me,” Roman stated, giving them both a wobbly smile. “This is some ridiculous birthday prank right?”

Except his mother was crying. She had never been one to show her feelings so openly, she was the steel of the family, the backbone that the rest of them used as their lodestar. She gave them strength without hesitation, openly offering them her power and always ready to shift into a furious mother bear who would rage rather than wail. She was tough and soft, quite often at the same time, but she would never weep so openly. And never over something silly like some badly thought out joke.

And now she was crying. Just like on his early birthday.

“This is a joke? I mean... it has to be a joke. Dad... please, tell me it is a joke,” Roman asked faintly, brown eyes darting from parent to parent, wondering when they would drop the act. It wasn't like them to pull this sort of prank and it certainly wasn't like them to keep going. His stomach dropped away, breath knocked from him and for a moment he was balanced on the edge of some huge chasm, too deep and dark for him to see the bottom. Because if this wasn’t a joke, if they weren’t lying then that meant- that meant... but that was impossible, surely?

“I am so sorry my son,” his mother told him, tears still following freely. If nothing else, he wished she would stop crying, it wasn’t right when she cried. It felt as if Roman’s whole world was spinning dramatically on its axis by the sight of that alone and he could barely focus on anything else when he looked at her. “This is not the fate I wanted for you.”

“Lies,” a voice stated, a voice that Roman didn’t know, all three of them jumping slightly. Roman spun on the spot, mouth dropping open at the sight of someone new in the kitchen. Someone who certainly hadn’t been there a second ago and Roman’s attention might have been distracted by the bizarre and impossible conversation but he wouldn’t have missed him.

There was a young man with dark purple, almost black hair sat on the counter top, one knee drawn up almost against his chest, the other leg dangling freely down the side. His black checked hoodie seemed to almost swamp his frame, making it impossible to tell what he actually looked like under it, if he was thin or well built. The dark fabric seemed to fold in on itself, creating a black hole that made something itch at the back of his skull, his mind begging him to look away.

“Oh I’m sorry, was I not wanted at this exact second?” He flashed them all a bright and altogether too sharp a smile before glancing down at his phone and playing with the screen, apparently completely enthralled by whatever he was looking at. The light threw his face into even greater contrast, all sharp angles and deep shadows. His eyes seemed sunken into his face, or perhaps it was simply yet more shadows, darkness under those deep purple eyes that had to be thanks to contact lenses surely?

“Who the heck are you? And what do you mean lies?” Roman was trying not to freak out too badly at the way this day was going, but it was hard to remain calm when a stranger had apparently magically appeared in his kitchen and was now joining in on the conversation as if this was a perfectly normal subject they were talking about. Not to mention the subject as a whole.

It was almost as though the world really had magic in it and sure Roman had always wanted to live in a world with magic, with supernatural beings. He had dreamed of getting his letter to Hogwarts, had even half hoped that his mother's European heritage would mean he went there. Roman had been more disappointed than he was willing to admit when his eleventh birthday had come and passed without that letter.

There was still the thought of other magic, of being able to bend elements, maybe fairies or talking animals. Some grand adventure just waiting to be uncovered and that was something Roman very much yearned for, no matter how childish those wishes were. It couldn't hurt to hold them in his heart, to keep his mind open to the possibility of something beyond this world.

Demons though? Demons were not the sort of supernatural he wanted in his life. Hell and brimstone and all that terrible, unpleasant stuff that came with them. Demons couldn’t be real because if they were... then what else? Vampires? Werewolves? Sirens? Angels?

No, this whole thing was just ridiculous. It had to be ridiculous.

Except there was a boy about his age in his kitchen, sat on the counter who hadn't walked in. One with impossible eyes and a crooked smirk that spoke of hidden knowledge. One that agreed with his parents not funny ‘joke’ and Roman knew his parents - they would never go to this length to try and make him swallow a lie. They wouldn't lie to him at all, not even for a joke so what... this was real? The reality though seemed to much to believe.

“I’m just saying,” the stranger replied at last with a casual shrug, eyes still fixed on the phone in his hand, fingers tapping lightly over the screen. “If they really didn’t want this to be your destiny or whatever, then maybe they shouldn’t have sold their first born to a demon? Seems pretty obvious to me, but then what do I know? I’m just a demon myself after all.”

Chapter Text

A demon.

Did... had... the other boy had said he was... a demon. And what was worse, was that neither of his parents had batted an eyelid at that, only by the fact that he was here at all. Roman was struggling but he had to admit, there didn’t seem to be any other answer beyond the fact that demons were real and he was looking at one. A mostly normal looking boy bar his eyes. Reasonably attractive if moody emos were your thing, but still just a boy. Nothing special.

“We didn’t think it would rebound back on us like this!” Roman’s father snapped. The older man had taken a step forward and a little to the side, as if trying to block the demon from view. Or perhaps the other way around.

“Ailsa and I thought... we thought...” he trailed off, glancing back at his wife and along with the fear, Roman could see such love in his eyes. After all this time, they still loved each other so very much and he had always thought of his parents as a storm, twin hurricanes raging against the world. Nothing seemed to stop them, nothing could come close to matching the intensity of their love for each other. Roman had always longed to find a love like that of his own, that special someone who he would tear down mountains for and know they would do the same.

Now it was starting to look as if he might never get that chance.

“We thought I was incapable of bearing a child,” Ailsa finished, one hand reaching out to grasp her husband’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Oooh,” the demon drawled, phone turned off and slipped into his pocket. He leaned forward, chin resting on his knuckles, attention fixed on his father. Roman didn’t like that, not one bit. There was a dangerous gleam in those unnatural eyes, and if anyone was in danger it should be him, not the people he loved.

“You thought you could trick a demon? Yeah, that sounds like a wise idea. You’re lucky you were wrong and you had a kid, because deliberately going into a deal you are knowingly incapable of fulfilling? I would not have liked to be in your shoes.”

“Who are you anyway?” Ailsa asked, her eyes narrowed, attention shifting from what had been to what now was. Her gaze was almost calculated as she examined the young looking male still on her counter top, tears no longer flowing. Roman didn’t understand what she was doing, why she would wait until now to ask such a question and surely she already knew the answer?

The demon lifted a hand to press it against his chest as though deeply offended, a somewhat mocking smile on his lips.

“You don’t recognise me? I’m hurt. I’m the demon you made the deal all those years ago with and I’ve come to collect. Happy Birthday Roman.”

“No... no you’re not him.”

“We can shape shift. You think this is my real form? I’m just trying to be kind is all. You mortal minds couldn’t handle my true form, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

“You’re not him,” Ailsa repeated, more firmly this time, head held high. She glared at the demon in undisguised contempt, taking another slow step towards him. Any trace of fear Ailsa might have had was long since gone and in its place was an icy anger. An anger that the demon seemed more than capable of matching, the youthful looking male slipping gracefully down from the counter. He almost floated as he moved, gliding up to meet Roman’s mother face to face.

He was... shorter than Roman had expected. Shorter than him at least and now that he was standing, it was easier to see a vague outline under the oversized hoodie, to realise that he was truly lanky, almost unnaturally so. Plus, they could shape shift. Yet this was the form he chose to show them? Hardly a threatening looking person and yet Roman had long ago learned not to take people at face value.

Throughout the whole interaction, Roman had simply stood there, had let his father try and protect him, had let his mother attempt to outtalk the monster. He was letting them fight his battle and that didn’t sit right with Roman. True, he might not understand exactly what this battle was or how he could come close to winning it, but that didn’t excuse his cowardice. If only he knew what else to do.

The demon clicked his fingers, a long and thin scroll suddenly appearing in his hand with a flicker of flames. Roman couldn’t help but jump a little at the sight, eyes growing wide. He had seen magic tricks in his time but somehow that didn't look like any of the sleight of hand he had witnessed before. It almost looked... it almost looked as though it had been real. Those flames had been real. The scroll itself was certainly real, Roman leaning forward and to the side a little in order to try and get a closer look at the object in the other boy’s hand.

It felt... familiar to him somehow. As if he knew the pale cream scroll intimately, as if it was part of him that he had only just realised was lost and ached to regain. Which was crazy, he had never seen it before and it was just a piece of paper rolled up. Why would it be anything important?

“Doesn’t matter who I am now does it? Because I have this, which means I have him. Full body and mental possession of your first born child upon he, her, them or other reaching their eighteenth year,” the demon almost recited, twirling the scroll casually in his fingers as if it were a baton or something similar. Roman felt his heart leap into his mouth every time it spun and looked seconds away from falling to the ground. He couldn’t help but feel protective towards it for some bizarre reason.

“What are you going to do to him?” James asked, his own eyes never leaving the scroll as the demon effortlessly taunted them. The smirk on the dark haired boy’s face only grew wider and Roman was pretty sure he was enjoying this. It made him hate the demon boy, his fingers itching to curl into a fist and land it right into one of those purple eyes. He could probably take him in a fight. At least long enough to grab that scroll off him and Roman didn’t know why but he really wanted to get that thing away from the demon.

“That is for me to know and you to find out, oh... never. Go and get your things Roman, we have places to be. Or at least I do.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going anywhere with you,” Roman snapped and enough was enough. Demon or not, he wasn’t going to just let himself get... get what exactly? Get kidnapped? It felt as though that was what was happening. The demon seemed to expect him to just pack up and leave, to go somewhere completely new and unknown, somewhere dangerous.

He wasn’t going to walk to his slaughter.

“I can make you,” the demon threatened, purple eyes staring deep into Roman’s brown ones. He slipped past Roman’s mother as if she were nothing, weaving through the room in a second to suddenly be directly in front of Roman. “Please, don’t make me prove it.”

Perhaps Roman was just imagining it, but he could have sworn that the words came across more as an honest plea rather than a threat, as if the demon didn’t want to do this. What? Where had the smirking horrible demon gone, the one he had felt no hesitation in hating and had wanted to punch squarely in his face? The male who stopped in front of him seemed to almost begging that he do as he was told - and there was the rub. Even if Roman wanted to do it, which he didn’t, there was no way he was going to do anything he was ordered to like some dumb dog.

Roman titled his chin up, arms crossed, his defiance clear without a single word being spoken. This was his home. Why would he ever want to leave against his will? For a beat, nothing happened, the pair simply staring at each other.

“Fine,” the demon suddenly snapped, eyes narrowing spitefully. Fingers curled around the scroll, tightening his grip on it, the parchment crinkling under the pressure. His stomach dropped at the movement, almost feeling himself tense. Ridiculous, ridiculous, this whole thing was ridiculous and he didn’t understand why he was taking it so seriously. It was just a piece of paper at the end of the day and this boy was just one person against the three of them. Why hadn’t they just called the cops?

“Roman T. Sanders, I order you to go quietly upstairs and pack of a bag of things you feel you most need for a trip away from home. Quickly.”

Roman opened his mouth to laugh at him, to tell this so called demon exactly what he thought of his order and ask if that was all he had, his grand plan was adding the word order and to make his voice grow deeper for a single word. As though that was going to scare him into doing what he wanted.

Instead Roman found himself turning on his heel and slipping away from the kitchen, marching rapidly through the house and back up the stairs he had crept down what felt like a lifetime ago. No matter how hard he tried to, Roman couldn’t make himself stop moving. It was as though his whole body had slipped into autopilot and no matter what he thought or how hard he grabbed at door frames as he passed, there didn’t seem to be any way to prevent himself from carrying out the order the purple eyed monster had given him.

It was as though the demon child had completely hijacked control of his body and was taking it for a joy ride.

Tears blurred his vision as he felt himself start to throw clothes into a bag but they were angry tears, frustrated tears. Roman couldn’t control his hands either and it made him rage, kicking and screaming in his mind even as he pulled open his closet, dumping various items into the two suitcases he had pulled out from under his bed. Distantly, Roman noticed they were the ones his father had surprised him with last week, large and lightweight, perfect replacements for the tatty ones he had been using to and from college previously.

His parents had bought him brand new luggage just a week before his birthday.

Roman wasn’t sure what to really made of that. Coincidence? Hoping that he would be able to use them for collage as he had planned? Or a silent admission that they knew there was no way around this and they were just trying to make things as easy for him as possible? He could fit a lot more into them than he could in his old ones, favourite clothes, books, keepsakes all being piled high. His body seemed to know exactly what he would have normally chosen to take no matter his mind’s silent protests.

All too soon he was dragging the two suitcases and bulging backpack down the stairs and back into the kitchen. Roman would have probably packed more if he had the arms for it and there was so much he had left behind, so much he would miss but there had only been room for a certain number of things and the demon had told him to pack for a trip.

Some part of him couldn’t believe he was thinking like that but then right now it seemed as if he had little choice. When that boy held the scroll it seemed as if he could say whatever he liked and Roman would jump on command. Roman liked to think of himself as a very imaginative person, always spinning so many different threads in his mind, different ideas about everything and yet he couldn’t come up with any way out of this mess. What could he do against something that could compel his body to do whatever it damn well pleased?

The demon was engrossed in his phone once more, the harsh blue light of the screen reflected onto his face as he stared down at it, the very tip of his tongue flicking out between his lips as he tapped away. Whatever it was had to be pretty important because he appeared to be completely oblivious to the death glares being sent his way by Roman’s parents or the way James hand his hand lightly on Ailsa arm to try and calm her.

A couple of broken plates lay scattered on the ground between them, as if they had hit an invisible wall and shattered. Perhaps not so oblivious after all and Roman didn’t know which of his parents had thrown them - almost certainly his mother. Roman couldn’t help but feel a little envious at that, at how she had been able to let lose her anger and frustration. He still felt wrapped up in the power of the demon’s words, bound by the instruction to be quiet, unable to rant and scream as he wished.

Purple eyes flicked up to glance at Roman for a moment, taking in the sullen face and the fact that he had actually returned with the desired suitcases.

“You can... uh... you can say goodbye. If you want.” The demon was back to looking almost unsure of himself and Roman didn’t understand why he was behaviour so... off. Everytime Roman thought he had gotten a handle on what he was like - cruel spiteful, trying to get a rise out of his parents or himself just for the fun of it - he then twisted everything on its head by softening and giving him this chance when he didn’t need to. The demon held all the power here, and what's more it clearly knew it.

Roman had watched Beauty and the Beast, the kidnapper was under no pressure to let them have a goodbye if he didn’t want to. It was under no pressure to do anything and yet he took a step backwards to allow Roman to move closer, his fingers still tapping quietly against the screen of his phone as he apparently texted someone. They had phones in hell?

His mind was buzzing with questions from the ridiculous to the sublime and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t pick where to start because his mother was suddenly in front of him, peppering his face with kisses.

“This isn’t goodbye,” his mother vowed. She pulled back a fraction, hands on his shoulder to look deep in his eyes with an intense stare. “I swear Roman, I swear we are going to get you out of this. You stay strong, you stay alive and you don’t trust a word out of his mouth. No matter what he tries to promise you or how he tries to trick you.”

Roman wallowed heavily, biting down the confusion and anger. Some part of him couldn’t help but think it was all very well for her to start giving him advice now. His father had been right, it would have been better to tell him sooner. Even if he wouldn’t have believed them at first, if he knew the rules he could understand how to beat his enemies, but now he was just too lost to even know where to start. The demon already could control him, he had demonstrated that to chilling effect. How could he trick him further? How could she think he would even start to trust him? She stepped back after a pause, his father moving into her place.

“I love you Roman,” James whispered, wrapping him in a fierce hug. “Like your mother said, stay strong, we are going to sort this.”

Oh how he wished he could believe that. For so long he had believed that his parents knew best and while they might not know everything they still came pretty close. And now they knew nothing, Roman’s hands creeping up to hug him back, trying to pour everything he felt into that embrace, everything he couldn’t quite bring himself to say, the good and the bad.

“Okay, that is enough of that, lets go before I vomit.”

Enough? That hadn’t been nearly enough time and how could it ever have been enough time to say everything that had to be said. Roman hadn’t even said anything, a sob working its way up through the lump in his throat. For a moment he was thrown into a feeling of pure, blind panic, everything clicking horribly into place.

This was real.

This was real. He was being kidnapped by a demon and was about to be dragged off to hell or whatever. And then... what? Tortured for eternity? That was what happened to souls owned by demons right? But then why had it told him to pack if that was going to be his fate? He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to do this, to go wherever the purple eyed demon was going to take him. He wanted to go to college, he wanted to get drunk before he was meant to, he wanted to explore the world, to see Europe for the first time. He wanted to see his own name lit up in front of him and know that other people knew it, that they loved him and his work.

The world spun around him, leaving Roman breathless and dizzy, as though standing at the edge of a precipice of pure darkness and Roman didn’t want to die. What else could this monster offer him but death?

His parents stumbled backwards from him as though burnt, leaving a clear gap between them.

“What are you doing to them?” Roman demanded, eyes wide. He tried to move after them, managing only two steps before he reached an invisible wall. No matter how he pressed and pushed, it was impossible to get beyond it and return to the previous safety of their embraces. His mother was mere inches away and yet she couldn’t close the gap either, couldn’t move beyond the barrier that separated them. Her hand pressed against the space of his own, Roman’s eyes brimming with tears as he tried so hard to hold her one last time.

She was saying... something. Roman could see her mouth moving but no sound seemed to escape. Or was it no sound could reach him?

“It’s just a little bubble for us both. Can’t have them trying to interfere now can we? It’s a dangerous trip, try and mess around with it and well... someone might lose a limb,” The demon explained lazily, one hand lifting absently to wave in their vague direction as he spoke. There was a slight lift and lilt to his voice as he spoke those last words, something menacing in the undertone.

By someone, Roman could only assume the demon meant one of them. He was threatening his parents? It wasn’t enough that the demon was going to kidnap him and do god knew what to him, he had to threaten his parents as well? Roman scowled, his own fear wiped away in an instance by the protective fury of his rage.

The male stepped closer, hand still holding the scroll and Roman could almost feel hot fingers around his neck now that he allowed himself to think about it. Not that it changed his anger at all, if anything, it only made it worse to know how utterly helpless he really was.

This close, Roman could see all manner of shades of purple within those irises, flashes of colour as he stared deeply into them. They were almost beautiful, in an abstract fashion and he hated himself for thinking that. It didn’t change the truth though or the way Roman couldn’t quite bring himself to look away. Even his parents seemed to fade a little from his thoughts, as though everything outside the bubble was gradually ceasing to be important.

“Close your eyes,” the demon breathed, words fluttering lightly against Roman's cheek and no, he hadn't been imagining it, this demon really was shorter than him, almost nestling against his neck and chest as he pressed close. Far too close for comfort but what could he do? Roman wasn't foolish enough to think he could just pull away. All he could do was focus on the words themselves.

That wasn’t an order. Roman didn’t feel that weight pressing down on him that he had before, that impossible to ignore urge that had overridden any logical desires or wants, the one that had made him a puppet on a string.

It wasn’t an order and so he wasn’t going to do it.

The demon didn’t seem to notice, one hand taking his own, Roman flinching at the contact. After the sensation of heat against his neck he would have expected the actual hand to be burning hot. Instead it felt cool. Refreshing almost, like slipping into something more comfortable after a long hard day.

As Roman watched, the demon closed his eyes, face screwing up in concentration.

The scroll vanished from his hand, free fingers shifting forward to slide around Roman's hip. He knew he should pull away in disgust, but something about the gentle hold kept him pinned effortlessly in place. Just like the eyes, he felt trapped in a way completely independent of the actual power the scroll had over him. There was a danger here, something beside the demon himself, the words of warning, the threat still lurking in his mind, the whole reason that the demon had cast this bubble around them in the first place.

Roman opened his mouth to ask what on earth the demon thought he was playing at, what he was going to do when the soft crackle of fire came to his ears, a whisper at first, a soft tickle at the back of his mind and throat before it came over them like an inferno. A ring of flame suddenly burst into life around them, scorching its way deep into the wood panelling of the kitchen. It flickered to knee height level, the tips of the flames dancing hungrily, shifting and weaving as though it was alive and glorying in being set free.

The sight was enough to drag his attention away from the angelic face of the demon - a terrible contradiction in words if ever he thought one and yet one that somehow seemed to fit the stranger - and focus on the flames themselves. Roman swallowed heavily at the sight, mouth snapping shut. He couldn’t help but slightly regret his choice to keep his eyes open. But no, he had made his choice and he had to stay strong, he couldn’t give in now just because fire had appeared out of nowhere. It was close enough that if he wanted to, Roman could reach out and touch it and yet he didn’t feel any heat coming from the fire. This wasn’t normal fire.

As if anything about this had been normal.

An unpleasant sensation grew in the pit of his stomach as if something had curled around his insides and started to tug - hard. The intensity of the pull increased with each passing second, Roman biting down on his lip in order to keep quiet and he wouldn’t let some discomfort defeat him, The grip the demon had on him was tightening too, fingers curling further around him in time to the deepening scowl as it seemed to try even harder to... well, do whatever it was that the demon was attempting to do.

The wooden floor dropped away with a whoosh, more flames racing up to meet them.

There wasn't time to even wonder about the flames, to wonder about anything because all of a sudden they were falling.

They were spinning down through the earth, Roman instantly pressing himself tighter against the demon as they dropped, clinging on tight as though holding him would somehow protect him. Almost as though he was on fire, his mind and skin burning as he watched thousands of split second moments all at once. It was as though he was every soul they fell past, experiencing their punishment as they went deeper into hell.

He was the man who was forced to stand in a river of water with fruit overhead only to have the food and drink shrink from his touch, constantly tortured by the need for substance but never allowed it. He was the one who had to push a rock up a hill, feeling it dig and cut into his skin, only for the boulder to bounce back down the other side so his job was never done. His skin was burning away, tried to an endless flaming wheel that spun without rest. His liver was being pecked out and devoured. He felt the whip lash against his back, skin splitting apart. He was all of these and so many more, his voice stolen from him as they sped past the horrors, unable to even scream.

Feet connected to the ground, Roman jerking and gasping, as if he had been submerged in a fiery bath and only just now coming out to breathe. The images shattered around him, potent moments of pain vanishing as if they had never been there, leaving him with nothing but their ghostly presence, the memory of what had just been interfering with the now.

He felt so lightheaded. So... awful. He wanted to throw up and scream all at the same time. The sights of the trip pressed against his mind like after images burned into the ground, a flash fire of what had once been and it shook him down to his core. Roman could do nothing but sag into the surprisingly strong embrace of the demon, let him support him as he whimpered and shook. All thoughts of remaining strong were lost in the haze of pain and illness, in the struggle to push away the images and focus on what he knew - thought - to be real. The feel of arms supporting him, one snaked around his back, the other lifting to press a hand against his forehead as though they would tell him anything.

The hand was as cool as before, blissfully so, Roman unconsciously leaning into to try and chase away the feeling of phantom flames that still licked against his skin.

“I told you to close your eyes... why didn’t you close your eyes, why did you have to be so damn proud?” The demon sounded more panicked than angry or amused, the two emotions he would have expected when it realised he hadn’t obeyed him. Roman wasn’t some trained dog, he wasn't going to just accept anything he was told and behave. That wasn't his way and maybe it would have been smart to just do as he was told. But that would have given the demon completely the wrong impression as to what sort of person Roman was. He would fight and snarl and resist to the bitter end.

Right now however, he sort of wished he had listened.

Roman couldn’t do anything but make a faint little whimper of pain and confusion. His mind felt as though it was being ripped apart at the seams and as soothing as the touch was, it only offered him relief in his forehead, the rest of his body still screaming out in agony.

“Antagonist is going to have a field day when he senses you, we’re going to have to be extra careful.”

It was getting harder and harder to focus on the words that still made no sense, and Roman wanted to ask who on earth Antagonist was. Or for that matter who the demon actually was and he never went home with someone on the first date. Certainly when he didn't even know there name. He wasn't that sort of boy.

The giggle that slipped out at his thoughts was anything but joyful. It bordered on the hysterical, Roman unable to control it. The demon was saying something else but his words were too hard to make out, sound slipping in and out so he could only make out every other word. The world kept flickering in and out of focus, Roman unable to make his eyes narrow in on the demon that had stolen him.

Roman gave up and let the darkness take him.

--

Coming back to awareness was a slow, lazy progress. He felt as if he was swimming up through thick quicksand, each movement sluggish and uncertain.

For a moment, he simply stared upwards at the ceiling, trying to piece together the very strange dream he had been having. That there was a supernatural world. That his parents had somehow known about it enough to be able to make a deal with a demon and had offered their first born as payment and that the demon had come collecting. That he had been, quite literally, dragged down into hell. It had been such a vivid dream and he had never had one like that before.

Roman blinked a couple of times, mind slowly turning.

Wait. This wasn’t his bedroom ceiling. And now that he thought that, he realised this wasn’t his bed. It was larger and far more comfortable than any bed he had ever slept in before. With a jolt, he sat upright, regretting it almost immediately. The world spun and shook with the sudden movement, Roman flopping back into the bed and the handful of pillows that just begged for him to sink into them and forget about his troubles for a little longer. Roman stared up at the ceiling and slowly let the truth unfurl in his mind.

It hadn’t been a dream.

He had been kidnapped. Or sold? Was sold a better word? His parents might have tried to stop it but they had been the ones to do it in the first place. Either way, it didn’t matter what word he used in his mind. All that mattered was the end result, was the fact he had been torn out of his life and thrown into... into... into a really luxurious bed. That was not what Roman had expected.

Admittedly he hadn’t really spared much time to working out what he had expected but from the various stories he knew of demons and hell, not to mention the hideous glimpses he had seen as they had been pulled down here had led him to believe that something terrible awaited him. Chains and screaming had seemed more likely than a comfortable bed and no restraints in sight.

Not that he was complaining, but it just dragged out the other torture, that of not knowing what the demon planned to do to him. If not torture then what? And why?

Slowly, he pushed himself upright once more. This time, the world didn’t blur together horribly. After a couple of moments of heavy breathing, he carefully turned and slipped from the bed. His suitcases were placed neatly by the bed, Roman staring at them as he walked by. The demon had gone to the effort of taking him to bed and then had brought his luggage with him. Roman didn’t even remember seeing it come down to hell with them. And all his stuff seemed to still be inside. The demon hadn’t violated his privacy, hadn’t seemed to have gone through them. But why?

That was a problem for later. Right now, Roman needed to get some answers. It was time to confront the demon once and for all.

He pulled open the door, stepping out into a quiet corridor. Like the room he had woken up in, it looked like a normal corridor. Comfortable, nicely furnished but not ornately. It was the sort of place he would expect to see when he visited a friend, not a hell demon’s home. The door directly opposite him opened up onto a bathroom, Roman looking inside just long enough to make sure it was empty before he moved back and continued his search.

At the end of the hallway was another bedroom door. This one was locked when he cautiously tried it. A ‘V’ was carved above the frame but aside from that there was no way to know what was on the other side. Nobody came storming out to demand what he was doing which meant that it was either empty or someone was trapped and unable to answer. Roman eyed it for a couple of moments before deciding to come back to it later.

There was nothing else of interest upstairs, Roman slowly making his way to the bottom floor and it seemed as if this was a whole house instead of an apartment. Demons had houses. Who knew?

The downstairs looked as normal and unremarkable as the top floor. As empty too, Roman feeling his anger and frustration growing with every passing second, every room that he looked in and found it empty of the demon. A living room, a kitchen, a dining room. They were all carefully furnished, although the dining room had that look about it which made him feel like it was a rarely used room. Everywhere else seemed more homey, Roman eyeing the obscenely comfortable looking sofa warily.

There was even a television in the corner of the living room and that was messing with his mind more than the bed had done because what did that mean exactly? They could get signal down here? The internet? Demons watched television?

His exploration of the kitchen had only yielded more questions. A coffee maker stood on the counter top, a large glass jar of coffee pods set beside it. No cheap instant coffee for this demon it seemed.

Fancy.

The fridge was a little more sparse than he had expected after everything else in the building. Some milk, a couple of leftovers wrapped in foil, even a few vegetables pushed to the back that looked as if they had been left there far longer than they should have been. Nothing in it answered any of his questions and it certainly didn’t tell him where his demon host or kidnapper had vanished too.

Roman pushed it shut, shuffling out of the kitchen and into the hallway. All in all, this was a perfectly normal house. It was all very... mundane. If he didn’t know better he would have thought this was just a place where a human lived, someone who prioritised coffee over any sort of healthy food true, but still a human.

A flash of memory shot across his mind, the sensation of limbs breaking only to be instantly healed in order to break again, the sensation making him flinch. Roman had no idea what that soul had done to warrant such an eternal punishment but he was fairly confident that he didn’t want to know. The second of agony he had experienced had been more than enough and Roman wished he could push it out of his thoughts as easily as it had arrived. He wished he could forget.

He really wished he had closed his eyes.

No, this wasn’t a normal place. And he needed to get out of here while his captor wasn’t about before he returned and put whatever foul plan he had into practise. What could those moments be but a taste of what was to come? Roman swallowed heavily and forced his legs to keep moving.

The front door loomed up in front of him. It looked as normal as the rest of the house but Roman didn’t dare trust it or allow his hopes to get the better of him. All the better because when he finally reached it and tugged on the handle to get out, nothing happened.

The door was locked.

Of course the door was locked. Roman felt the wild, hysterical giggle build up in him as he tried the handle again and again as if he could somehow force it open. There had been no keys to be seen in his search of the house, no hint of any way to unlock it which meant he was still trapped here. No doubt his captor had the only set of keys, the panic and terror clawing its way up his throat at the realization that he really was trapped here. There was nobody here to witness his breakdown, nobody he had to be strong in the face of which meant that Roman didn’t have to hold himself back.

Alone, he could let himself feel all the horror and dread his situation inspired in him, the mind shaking fear that make him laugh and scream at the same time, noise slipping out as an unorganized jumble of sound. Legs refused to hold Roman up any longer, the male slowly sliding down the wall, hands clamped over his mouth as though he could somehow stop the noise by sheer force of will. It was impossible to hold back the flood though, to control himself now that the reality of the moment had struck with its full force. He dissolved into tears, curling up into a ball of misery by the front door, his whole body shaking with the energy of his sobs.

Alone, with nobody to hear him, nobody to help him, Roman gave in fully to his fear.

Chapter Text

Virgil loved the human world. He loved the things the humans created, their technology and their inspiration. He loved books, music and films. The internet and its endless array of cat photography. The many delicious treats that they had invented in both food and drink. They were amazing creatures when they put their minds to something and Virgil was constantly in awe of all the new stuff he discovered every day.

He absolutely loathed humans themselves though.

Messy, close minded little things sometimes. Not to mention he had no desire to... to... to... it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to be a demon. He rather liked, on the whole, being a demon. No bills to pay, his own place, a best friend he would never have met if he had been anything other than what he was. Yeah being a demon was a pretty sweet gig and he knew he was so lucky to be what he was - imagine if he had been born a human? If he had to live like them. No thank you, not at all. It all more than made up for the less than pleasant side of what he was and Virgil mostly ignored that aspect of himself.

At least it had until his father had thrust a scroll into his hands and explained his latest, brilliant idea on how to ‘fix’ Virgil.

A human soul, all for himself, one that he didn’t have to worry about luring in. As if that was the problem with Virgil, as if all he needed was someone to catch his prey for him. What was next, break them from him too as if he was some kind of pup that didn’t know the first thing about how to be a demon?

Okay, so Virgil had no idea how to actually talk to anyone, let alone a human he was trying to scam out of their soul, but that wasn’t the point. That wasn’t why he was so against the whole idea, why he didn’t want to go hunting with his dad, why he showed no interest in going up to the mortal realm and getting himself a human to toy with. He didn’t want to hurt them or feed from them or do... anything to them. Virgil had no desire for that kind of power, no matter how strong it would make him.

What had his dad been thinking?

Well, Virgil knew what he had been thinking. What he wanted and why he had given him this human and it wasn’t because it was Virgil’s birthday and he was just being kind. It was like he didn’t know his son at all. Or that he didn’t care what he was liked, what he wanted from life. All he cared about was what the rest of the demon world was thinking and how his son wasn’t normal, wasn’t like the others.

All he wanted was for him to be able to fit in, to have more friends - Virgil knew he didn’t approve of his only friend either, thought him even odder and probably to blame for leading his son astray.

Tough love, dad called it. Virgil had his own names for it and none of them included the word ‘love’.

There was another reason too, the other suggestion and Virgil felt his cheeks flush a bright red just remembering what his father had suggested when they had argued over the human soul. His father, it almost went without saying, had thought long and hard before he selected this particular soul to give to his son. There were many to choose from after all, he was highly skilled in tricking stupid humans to signing over their souls to him in return for temporary gains. Or worse, the souls of their children. His father had apparently spent several nights going through his contracts, even spying on potential targets. More time than he had spent with Virgil in the past few years and he wasn’t jealous of some doomed souls having his father’s attention over himself, he wasn’t.

Maybe he was a little.

All he really wanted was to have his father notice him, to spend some time with him, but the older demon’s idea of father-son bonding always involved torturing human souls and that... just wasn’t what Virgil was into, much to the other demon’s dismay.

His father had one of the highest soul rates in the area, a fact he was more than a little proud of. It was never enough of course, there was always some reason why he couldn’t just be happy with what he had gained, some new mountain he had to climb. He always looked around him at other people at what they had always looked at himself and just saw what he was lacking, what was different about himself. Some part of Virgil knew his dad couldn’t really help it, that it was who he was, but it didn’t change the feelings of hurt and shame he felt at knowing he was forever failing to live up to his father's ideals.

Nobody had a son like Virgil. That wasn’t a good thing, Virgil knew that. He was something of a joke amongst the other demons, he and his only friend. They were something to sneer at, to point to as examples of how not to behave and Virgil couldn’t pretend that the comments didn’t get to him sometimes because they did. Just not enough to change what he was.

Dad knew all of this, and it had to have been running through his mind when he looked through his souls, when he tried to pick his gift - Virgil had wanted an Xbox One, the newest model but no, Dad had decided what he really needed, really wanted, was actually a human soul.

And out of all of the ones on offer, he had selected this Roman Sanders.

Virgil wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to make of that. Would this soul be like his father? Or would he be someone he truly hated, all the better to encourage him to play the role as he was supposed to? Someone that maybe Virgil wouldn’t feel bad about hurting, about feeding from, about destro-

He couldn’t think like that. Virgil wouldn’t let himself think like that. It was too much to hope that the demon who had never seemed to spend much time getting to know his son would possibly be able to pick someone Virgil would be able to tolerate and he refused to allow himself to get his hopes up. If expectations were already low, then he couldn’t be disappointed by whoever the soul turned out to be. Perfect logic.

Virgil had been more than a little afraid of what he might find when he popped up in that house to collect his gift and really, what was the point of a present you had to leave to go and get yourself?

Frankly, he didn’t see what all the fuss was about. Or why he had to go through so much effort in the first place. Roman seemed cute enough but he was still a human and more than that, an idiotic human that kept their eyes open through a descent into hell and saw far more than they ever deserved to. Which Virgil felt a little guilty about but he had told Roman to close his eyes, he had tried to protect him as much as he could against some of the horrors of his new life. Virgil couldn't save him from a lot of things but he had hoped that he could have spared him that. Perhaps he would do better next time.

It pained him to think that there would be a next time - and worse than that, that it would certainly be far more dangerous to Roman than a few bad forced memories that made him pass out. That was a problem for later, and Virgil was doing his best to not think about later.

At least it was done now, and he was home. All Virgil just wanted to crawl onto the couch with his best friend but he couldn’t have him round his, not until he had gotten his new... house guest settled and up to speed. Which meant that once he had placed the unconscious Roman in bed and convinced himself that he was merely sleeping now and nothing worse, Virgil had left his home in favour of going to visit his friends. He didn't bother with knocking, simply sweeping inside and flopping gracefully down on the couch.

“Hey babes, how was it? You bring me something?”

The sound of his best friend’s voice had Virgil instantly brightening up, gloomy thoughts banished as Remy walked into the room, the taller demon instantly dropping down on the couch, half beside and half on top of Virgil, ignoring the disgruntled noise and wiggle Virgil made. There was no getting Remy off when he was in this mood, his friend wrapping an arm around him and really, Virgil didn’t want him to get off. It was a comfort, to be held by the one demon he trusted, to know things were going to work out.

With a flick of his wrist, Virgil summoned the complicated drink he had kept in a small suspended pocket dimension, letting it float down into Remy’s eager outstretched hand.

“Got it before I went to pick up the human,” Virgil explained and at least something had gone right tonight. As strange was it was, he almost enjoyed going to collect take out. He always made sure to know exactly what he wanted before he entered the shop, each word already planned out in his mind. The words often got jumbled of course, but never more than one every couple of trips. That was better than those times he was placed on the spot. They never ended well.

Nobody tried to make small talk with him in those places, the people behind the counter were just as eager to get to the next person as he was and there was only a small window of fake customer service smiling and pretending they actually cared. It was as close to bliss as he could find in the retail sector. Still a terrible situation of course and even Virgil felt sorry for the poor souls that were trapped working there.

If there was any soul he wanted to punish it would be the ones who designed such a miserable system. Sure Virgil profited off it, but he could still see that it was a horrible thing that not even a demon would have devised. The only comfort he took from it was the knowledge that somewhere, the people who invited and promoted such things were in hell. Or if not, it was only because they weren’t dead yet. Give it time.

That had been the easy part. Then came the hard part. Having to go collect his new human, Virgil popping into the kitchen at what felt like the worst possible time. He had made an ok entrance if nothing else, slipping almost seamlessly into the conversation and trying to act as though he was calm and collected. Really, Virgil had been completely terrified during the whole encounter. Putting on a scary persona had helped a little but not enough. If it hadn’t been for his phone and the constant stream of reassuring messages from Remy, Virgil doubted he would have been able to keep up the act he needed to. As it was, he had spent most of it sitting down purely because he had doubted his legs would have been able to support him.

“What am I supposed to do with a human soul Rem?” Virgil whispered, pressing his head against Remy’s collarbone, nuzzling close to him. He felt rather than saw, the wings wrap themselves around him, Remy shielding him from the world. Not for the first time, Virgil found himself wishing that he could just stay in moments like this, that there didn’t have to be anything more. No complicated father-son relationship, no complete stranger having to live in his home, nothing but his best friend.

Here, in the dark and safety of Remy’s wings, Virgil didn’t have to worry about what the other demons thought, what his dad thought or even what the human thought. It was a good moment, and like all his good moments, it was far too brief.

He wasn’t really sure how long they remained cuddled together before Remy finally sighed and nudged them both into an upright position, Virgil still curled against his side. No words were needed to get them comfortable, the pair moving with the grace that only years of comfortable experience around each other could create before they were settled once more, Remy with his arm around Virgil’s shoulder, fingers brushing against his arm. It was a comfortable silence, one that Virgil didn’t feel any rush to fill.

“Talk to me kit,” Remy commanded at last, his fingers tapping a gentle, repeating beat that soothed Virgil’s soul. “What is going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I...” Virgil trailed off, swallowing heavily before he forced himself to keep talking, a long pause hovering in the space between them. “I’m not going to do what dad wants, but where does that leave me? Where does that leave him?”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now Virge,” Remy replied, voice as soothing as ever and Virgil didn’t think he would ever grow tired of listening to that voice. His head rocked to the side, resting against Remy’s shoulder as they sat there, Virgil making a soft little noise of agreement. Putting something off sounded like a brilliant plan. Why make a choice now, when he could not make one till tomorrow?

“He isn’t going anywhere and it isn’t like there is a deadline on this kind of stuff. Let’s just get settled before we start worrying about anything else okay.”

“Okay,” Virgil mumbled and Remy was differently the brains of the pair of them. The grounding element too and he didn’t know what he would do without the other demon. He closed his eyes, sighing in contentment and if Virgil could not make any choices about Roman for a long time then it would be wonderful. If he could stay here in this moment and enjoy this, then it would be even better.

“What is he like anyway?” Remy asked and there was a note of something in his friend’s voice, an emotion that he couldn’t quite place. It sounded strange coming from Remy, something he didn’t understand and it was enough to make Virgil shift his head back a little, brown eyes sliding back open to stare up at the outline of his friend.

Remy’s jaw was working back a forth, a little tic jumping there as if the question had somehow pained him. Virgil wasn’t really surprised, thinking of the human brought the beginnings of a headache to his own mind and who knew one little mortal could be so awkward and disobedient? Remy hadn’t actually met Roman yet though, so he shouldn’t be that worked up about a human he didn’t have any experience with at all. It was all very strange. Still, at least this was something that Virgil did know.

“Annoying. The idiot didn't close his eyes on the trip down, I mean who does that? I warned him kinda and he still saw all the horrors. It knocked him out, I’m surprised that was all he did to him. Even I don’t like to look and I’ve seen the horrors countless times.” Virgil shook his head as he spoke, hair falling over his eyes. He lifted a hand, fingers dancing around in the air with increasing agitation as he thought about the situation.

“And his parents. I couldn’t believe it, they hadn’t told him anything. I show up and the poor soul doesn’t even know demons exist, let alone that he has belonged to one all his life! You think they would have done the decent thing and given him a little heads up but no he got the whole thing dropped on him at the last second.” Part of Virgil wanted to march right back up to the human world and make Roman’s parents pay for being so cowardly, for selling their son in the first place. It was one thing to be an idiot and sell yourself, you had nobody to blame but yourself for that. But to sell someone else? To sell your child?

It was monstrous. Perhaps the demons were terrible for offering the deals in the first place but the humans were even worse for accepting them. Remy sighed, Virgil able to feel his whole chest rise and fall with the motion, his friends fingers still tapping that steady, repetitive pattern, over and over again.

“Come on kit, you are expecting a lot of humans to not be cowardly? Really? One on their own being brave, that I could buy but not more. They couldn’t tell their son what they had done to him, it would have meant admitting the truth. They would much rather blame us for their own flaws and mistakes."

“Yeah...” Virgil deflated, remembering the angry words and looks, the way Roman’s mother had blamed him for everything and told her son not to trust him or a single world he said. As if it had all been Virgil’s fault, Virgil was the evil one for just fulfilling the contract. And not the parents for making the deal in the first place. As if it wasn't their choice to offer up their first born.

Virgil didn’t know what they traded, but it had to be something truly important for his father to accept a child’s soul over the parent. Demons had all the time in the world true, but few were willing to wait an extra generation for the soul.

On the flip side, because the soul could be collected while the human was still alive, there was more power to be gained from it. If the human lasted that long of course. If they died early then they were next to useless and the contract didn't protect them from human accidents or illness.

That was an investment and not one to be taken lightly.

“They did just that. The mother especially, she wanted to blame me for everything.”

“See? You can’t let them get to you Virgil, it isn’t your fault that they made the deal. You just remember that, no matter what your little human thinks. You aren't in the wrong."

When Remy put it like that, it was easy for Virgil to let himself believe it. It wouldn't last of course, sooner or later, his thoughts would twist back in on themselves and he would feel guilty when he shouldn't. He would feel bad about what had to happen, what he had no choice but to do. Right now however, Virgil simply held onto that feeling of confidence that only Remy could inspire in him.

The coffee reappeared in Remy’s hands and Virgil hadn’t even noticed his friend shifting it somewhere else, out of harm.

"Come on, let's watch some television before you have to go home."

Now that sounded like a perfect plan, Virgil's expression brightening at the thought. Firmly, he pushed the thoughts of Roman out of his mind and focused instead on enjoying an afternoon with Remy.

--

The sound of a door opening had Roman lifting his head.

He had cried long and hard, longer than he really wanted to admit as he let all the pent up emotions finally burst free.

Eventually though, the tears had run dry and Roman had forced himself to stand up. The only thing worse than breaking down and sobbing in such a way would be if the demon returned and saw it, if he realised he was on his way to breaking Roman without having to actually lay a single finger on him. Roman wouldn’t give that smirking demon the satisfaction of seeing him at his weakest.

Luckily, he had already found the bathroom, Roman retracing his steps and going up the stairs to the room he had briefly suck his head into. It was better stocked than he would have dared hope, cabinets almost bursting with makeup, beauty products, painkillers and cleaning wipes. It was in the second place he looked that he really hit the jackpot though. Roman didn’t want to think about why a demon might have a first aid kit under his sink or if any of the items within it had seen any use.

It had been enough to clean himself up, to wash away the blood from where he had bitten down on his tongue - Roman hadn’t even noticed that until he had gone to wipe his face and the taste of iron had finally sunk in. He wasn’t sure how long he sat on the floor of the bathroom, his head buried in his arms, just trying to keep breathing and not slip back into panic. All he knew for sure was that it didn’t feel like nearly long enough before the sound of the front door alerted him the demon was back.

Roman stared at his reflection in the mirror once he had climbed back to his feet for a couple of moments longer, examining himself critically. The tear track marks had gone at least, scrubbed clean. He didn’t look his best however. His face was a little redder than he would have liked, eyes slightly puffy but maybe, just maybe, he would get lucky and the demon wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t jump on that as something else to mock him for. Roman hadn’t had any good luck recently, but rather the opposite. That had to mean he was due some now surely? After everything that had happened to him, he felt as though he deserved something to go his way at long last.

It would have to do. He wished he had time to put on some makeup of his own, to create a mask to hide behind, but for all he knew, the demon might come looking for him and Roman didn’t want to get caught with half a face done.

Exhaling softly, Roman gave himself one last glance in the mirror and then turned to return to the lower floor. The demon was standing in the living room, staring out at the window, his back to Roman. He seemed oblivious to his presence and for a moment Roman considered trying to sneak past to see if the front door was unlocked now. Maybe he could still make a break for it. Roman had no idea what he would do once he got out of the house but step one of the escape plan was doing that. He could worry about step two once he was there.

Then the window caught his eye. They were another weird thing about this place. Each one showed a different outside view. Some showed daytime landscapes, others night. The one in the hallway showed what felt like an endless storm, rain pattering against the windowpane only for the bathroom to look out on a still, sunlit forest. The living room was his favourite out of the ones he had looked at so far. A night sky without any light pollution, showing the milky way clear and crisp above them.

Roman had no idea what he would see if he looked out his own bedroom window - no, not his own, never his own, that would imply that he lived here, that he accepted this and Roman wasn’t chattel, he wasn’t something that could be bought or sold. This wasn’t his life and while he might have given in for a while when defeated by a locked door, he wasn’t going to just roll over and play dead long term. But could it really be as simple as simply slipping past the back of the demon and running?

He must have made some kind of noise as he stood there because the demon suddenly flinched, spinning around to face Roman, eyes wide, expression unguarded. There was shock in his eyes, a surprise that was too open to be faked and almost... almost a little fear. It wasn’t the sort of expression he would ever have expected form the arrogant smirking demon he had met in his kitchen in what felt like a lifetime ago. There was also eye shadow smudged all around his purple eyes now, a black that just served to make the bright violet irises stand out all the more and Roman didn’t need more reason to think him attractive.

It was really quite unfair.

A small part of Roman couldn’t help but feel almost smug that he had made the big bad demon jump despite everything. It was a tiny revenge but it was still payback of a sort and right now Roman would take any little victory that he could get. Especially now that he couldn’t just run for it.

“Oh... you’re awake.” The demon recovered annoyingly quickly, expression slipping back into one of studied boredom, his voice as blank as his face. Was it just Roman’s imagination or did he seem almost upset... disappointed by that? Roman swallowed his nerves to take a step inside the room, fingers curled into fists.

“No thanks to you!” Roman snapped back, trying to forget the sort of power this demon had over him.

“No thanks to...” he trailed off, mouth dropping open for a moment as he struggled to find the words to respond. “I told you to close your eyes! If you had, you wouldn’t have seen any of that and you wouldn’t have passed out!”

“At least I didn’t kidnap someone and lock them up in a house with no warning or explanation!”

“And I would have told you why the door needs to be locked if you hadn’t passed out! I couldn’t let you go wandering around without knowing how dangerous it was! You would have died... no, you would have wished that you had died but anyone who caught you wandering around would not have been that merciful. You’re an utter moron if you think it would be safe to just wander off into the landscape of Hell without any understanding of what lurks there.”

There was a dismissive tone to his words that Roman really hated, an implication that Roman was too dumb or slow to understand even if the demon went to all the effort of explaining himself and nothing made Roman madder right now than to be dismissed like that. Sure, he was in way over his head and didn’t even know demons exist till this very day but that didn’t mean he was ignorant. Or didn’t deserve a real answer.

Also his plan had mostly revolved around running off into the landscape without any understanding of what was lurking out there, but that was besides the point.

The point was... wait, why was the demon even saying any of this? Why did he seem to care if Roman got hurt or not? How could that be the point?

“Why do you even care? Scared someone might take what you’ve already stolen?” Roman sneered and he had no idea why he was trying to pick a fight with a demon, one that had already shown he could do whatever he liked with Roman. There was a small little kernel of fire in the pit of his stomach, a rage that he couldn't put out even if he wanted to.

It seemed as if any type of logic had gone right out the window and he was just pressing on any weak spot he could find regardless of personal safety. What was the point of any of this when he was just some toy to be used?

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Or so the poem went. If this was it then he wanted to go out with a bang, not a whimper.

The demon stared at him, eyes narrowed. For a moment, Roman could have sworn he saw something behind him, a flick of a long, thin object swishing from side to side before it vanished once more, leaving him chance to focus once more on the furious demon in front of him.

“Who says I care?” The demon was moving closer as he spoke, hips swaying a little as he stalked forward all fire and brimstone. Despite himself, Roman couldn’t help but move backwards in turn, the pair taking part in some bizarre form of dance, a delicate press of body and feet as they weaved through the room. His back collided with the wall, the demon effortlessly trapping him so there was nowhere to go, nowhere to look but those angry purple eyes that had galaxies swirling in them.

The demon might be shorter than him but right now Roman couldn't help but be intimidated slightly by the way he was pressing against him, lips twisted into an angry snarl. Not that Roman was going to let himself feel intimidated, he wasn't going to give in. Now or ever.

"Obviously you care, otherwise you would have left the door open. Problem solved," Roman snapped back, too worked up to wonder any longer about plans or reasons, too caught in his own emotions to care about anything but his own pain. The demon reared back as though struck, wide eyes narrowing into a cold and calculating gaze. His arm flew out, pointing towards the door.

"You wanna go get captured by one of those bloodthirsty lunatics out there? Be my guest, door is unlocked, don’t let it hit you on the way out. You’ll manage ten steps, tops, before someone catches your scent. Maybe another twenty before one catches up to you, probably a demon of Pride and then bye bye Roman. You want to experience every joy this place has to offer or do you want to actually survive with your feeble little human mind intact?”

Neither of those futures sounded particularly appealing. Surviving intact was the one he wanted, of course but what exactly did it mean? What did the demon want?

“So what, I should just stay here and let you do whatever it is you want with me? Oh please and thank you Mr Demon Sir, for only torturing me a little of the time, I'm so grateful." Roman titled his chin up in the air as he spoke, silently daring the demon to do his worse. At least then he would drop this silly pretence that he was a good option. As though there could be anything good to be found in literal hell.

“Which is nothing."

“What?” Roman blinked rapidly as he stared at the demon. Out of all the horrors that his brain had thrown at him, all the possibilities, the idea that it might be... nothing, has never occurred to him.

“I don’t... look dude, sorry to burst your bubble or whatever, but your mother was right. I’m not the demon they originally made the deal with. I didn’t want your soul but I have it. And I have no plans to drain you dry or make you suffer like probably everyone else here. If it was up to me, you wouldn't be here. I’m the best of a very bad bunch." The demon shrugged, looking down for a moment to fiddle with the cuffs of his checkered black hoodie, shifting from foot to foot as they stood there.

“I am Anxiety, demon of Fear... but... you may call me Virgil, if you want.” The demon - no Virgil - sounded oddly hesitant as he spoke, as if he was almost unsure of his own name. Roman was still reeling from the claim that Virgil didn't have any other motives, that he didn't want to hurt him. What kind of demon didn't want to torture and do evil things? It had to be a trick surely, but if it was, it was a very bad one. It made no sense.

“Pizza?” Virgil offered, taking the silence as consent. He clicked his fingers, a box appearing a second later on the counter between them, Roman’s mouth instantly starting to water at the delicious scent of hot melted cheese and vegetables. Virgil flipped the lid open to retrieve a slice. It was loaded with toppings, a cheese covered slice of mushroom sliding off the pizza as Virgil lifted it, melting cheese slowly giving was to gravity.

There was something so... absurdly normal about this sight, something that made Roman's brain hurt a little as he stared at a demon leaning against a kitchen counter and eating pizza without a care in the world. Virgil glanced back up at him, apparently taking in the fact that Roman had yet to move to collect a piece.

“It’s safe, I swear. Freely given.”

That finally shook Roman out of his stupor, scowl settling heavily on his features. This was probably exactly what his mother had meant when she has warned him against trusting the wiles of the demon. This was the start of his end, and fancy claims of not wanting to hurt him would vanish like misty breath on a warming morning.

“How do I know this isn’t some trick? Eat demon food, be stuck here for all time?”

“Okay,” Virgil sighed and pinched his nose, eyes closing for a moment in an expression of pure irritation and frustration. Really, Roman didn’t think he had any right looking as annoyed as he did, when Roman was the one being held captive against his will. The pizza was carefully placed back in the box, Roman unconsciously tensing against the expected attack.

Instead of lashing out however, the demon merely held up a hand, uncoiling fingers one after another as he spoke, just to illustrate his point.

“One, that was Persephone, a Queen. She knew exactly what she was doing when she ate those seeds and anyone who thinks otherwise is a moron. Two, I already own your soul and you’re trapped down here so what would I gain? Three, I told you it was safe. Four, this is human food from the human world. And five, don’t flatter yourself, you’re cute but you’re not that cute.”

Roman was fairly certain he was being insulted on multiple levels.

He still eyed the pizza suspiciously, trying to ignore the way his stomach grumbled, begging for the food and wanting him to just take a chance. What could be the harm? Well, eternal damnation could be the price and Roman didn't really want that. Then again, this Virgil had a point when he said that he already owned Roman and as far as the demon was concerned, he was already damned. What would be the point in capturing him a second time when he had already managed to do that? Roman was trapped down here already and unlike the Gods, he doubted anyone was coming to save him. His parents maybe but what could two humans do against this when they hadn't been able to stop him being taken in the first place? It was going to be up to Roman to save himself.

Plus, that pizza did look really good.

Virgil sighed again, something exaggerated and put upon, as if he couldn't even begin to comprehend why Roman might doubt his words, why he would be less than inclined to trust a single thing in this world. It set Roman's teeth on edge and made him more determined to do everything he could to foil the schemes of his wicked kidnapper.

“The devil is in the details. Look... a demon is almost never going to blatantly lie to you. We want your soul, your energy and we exist on contracts, on getting you to sign yourself over to us. Which we can’t get if we lie. It I said let me lend you some food or something stupid like that, then yeah, I could be after something but not, I give you pizza freely. Which I do.”

There wasn't really much Roman could say or do against that. Beyond refusing to eat but it seemed like that would only hurt himself. Virgil didn't seem interested in saying anything else, simply picking back up his food and eating it slowly, apparently focused only on that. Roman was really hungry, the pizza sitting there so innocently, so tempting. If it was human food, what would be the harm? Carefully, Roman reached out, watching Virgil out of the corner of his eye as he picked up a slice himself. The demon barely reacted beyond a slow blink, Roman just as slowly taking a mouthful of food.

It was good. So good.

For almost a whole slice of pizza, there was near silence. Just the sound of food being chewed and swallowed, the demon clearly enjoying it. Just as clearly, there was something on his mind, Virgil fidgeting a little, shooting Roman odd little glances when he thought the human wasn’t looking. There was clearly something on his mind but for once Roman was content to let someone get to whatever it was they wanted to say at their own pace - he wasn’t sure he trusted his voice at the moment. He wanted the truth out of this moment and pushing Virgil wouldn’t get him that. Eventually, Virgil sighed again, eyeing his mostly eaten slice before looking up to meet Roman’s gaze.

“But I guess you shouldn’t trust anything anyone says down here so... good job I suppose?” Virgil shrugged a little as he spoke, chomping down on the crust a second later as if he was trying to end any further conversation. As if Roman was going to just leave it at that, not when Virgil had just opened up the perfect line of attack for him to try and learn something new about him. This was his chance to prove Virgil was a liar.

“So I shouldn’t trust you?” Roman challenged, fingers unconsciously tightening on the pizza he was holding, feeling the hot greasy cheese seep over his fingers slightly. He held his breath as Virgil just stared at him, those purple eyes narrow and thoughtful. To his great surprise, Virgil seemed to shrink down a little into his hoodie, almost scrunching himself up and making himself even smaller than he already was. Hand rubbed at the back of his neck in what couldn’t possibly be an awkward gesture, because why would a demon feel anything other than evilly confident?

“Well... ugh I can’t believe I’m saying this but no. I mean it would be great if we didn’t have this argument every time I offered you some food or something but yeah, don't take anything at face value. Even from me.”

Again, he was playing the innocent card. This was a very good long con, if Virgil was just toying with him in order to play with him then he was doing a very convincing job of it. Roman was optimistic at heart, btu could he really believe this? Could he honestly think that his kidnapper didn’t have a nervous motive at heart? That he was telling Roman that he shouldn’t trust him but things would still somehow be okay? That he didn't want this just as much as Roman didn’t? If all of that was true, then why was Roman down here in the first place?

“If you don’t want to... hurt me or anything, why don’t you just let me go?” Roman couldn’t help the note of desperate hope that slipped into his words as he asked the question. Something so fragile and delicate, something he was sure that the demon would take great joy in using against him.

“Yeah, not the way this works Romano. Believe me, if I had a choice, we wouldn’t be in this mess to start with but we have to make the best of it.” Virgil frowned, staring down at the pizza. Appetite apparently lost, he tossed the half eaten crust back into the box and making no effort to pick up a fresh piece. Perhaps not such great delight after all and perhaps there really was more going on under the surface than Roman had first thought.

Maybe it won't be so bad?" The suggestion, although almost timidly asked, was like a flag to a red bull in Romans mind, forgetting everything else as he focused on those six words. There it was. The slip up. The betrayal. The proof that Virgil had been trying to play him, wanting to get him to admit that being his prisoner wasn’t so bad. As if it could be anything other than misery. Maybe that was how he got his kicks before the torture, have them grateful for mercy and then rip even that away from them. Roman shouldn’t have been so stupid to think even for a second that Virgil was anything other than the beast that he knew demons were.

"You think if you’re nice to me I'll break easier, is that it? I won't be your duped plaything demon, I am not some... some toy you can play with and throw aside when you get bored! I won’t relax just for you to spring the jaws of your trap shut so just get it over with and skip to the end.”

"You know what, forget it," Virgil snapped, throwing his hands up into the air in pure frustration. He took a step away from the counter top, away from Roman as though he needed to put some physical distance between himself and the human.

“I was just trying to be nice to make this better for us both but you want to make this hard, fine. You have a room, you have your stuff, you can do whatever the hell you want. Just show me your face once a day, show me you’re eating and stay out of my way.”

How dare he. How dare he. Who did this Virgil think he was, kidnapping him and then getting angry because Roman wasn’t willing to play along with his little game? Roman was no the monster here, he was not the one who was going to cause hurt. He was the one who was going to be hurt and there was nothing wrong in just wanted it to be over. He turned and started to stomp out of the room, tossing a final word over his shoulder as he went.

"Gladly!"

Roman felt somewhere between screaming and crying, conflicting emotions clashing like a violent storm in his mind. Part of him wanted to apologise to Virgil. Not because he necessarily believed him for all his protestations of innocence, he was still a demon, a monster of the underworld. But it might have been smarter to play along, to pretend that he believed him and then use that to try and escape.

"And don’t try and escape!" Virgil yelled after him. Roman scowled and continued storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him for extra effect. The nerve of the man. Demon. Thing. Whatever. Annoyance. Yes, that summed up this Virgil perfectly. An annoying loser who wore far too much eye shadow and ate like a pig. Someone who thought he could just ruin peoples lives as he pleased and not have to pay for it, who could act the innocent, the victim when someone dared to call him out on his lies. He was a nightmare made flesh and Roman was going to do whatever it took to unmask him.

There was no doubt in Roman’s mind that he was going to escape as soon as he had a plan to do so.

Chapter Text

Actually coming up with a good escape plan was easier thought of than done of course.

The front door remained taunting locked on the few occasions that Roman had dared to creep up to it and try and turn the handle. Admittedly Virgil was never in the house when he made that attempt but he wasn't brave or foolish enough to try and sneak out right under his nose. The windows were equally useless and none of them actually seemed to open even though Roman could see the curtains drift backwards and forwards slightly as though a faint breeze drifting through them. More magic to go with the fact that each had a different view, little glass portals onto various points on Earth.

His bedroom window looked onto nothing.

Literally nothing. Roman had peeked through the curtains and found a void waiting for him, a swirling nothing that seemed to reach right inside of his mind and try and scoop out every thought and feeling. He had felt drawn to it even as his mind had screamed and squirmed, trying to escape the nothing that was everything. Roman had leaned forward, forehead resting against the glass and just stared. It felt cool against his skin, soothing and Roman had let the sensation shift him, let himself drift away into the void.

If it hadn’t been for the sound of a door slamming as Virgil returned then Roman didn’t know what would have happened, the male flinching and flinging himself away from the window. As it was, he had no idea how long he had simply stood there and stared out at the void. A while. Longer than he would have liked because Virgil had left around noon and normally didn’t return for hours.

Roman hadn't pulled the curtains back since.

Virgil was doing a very convincing job of ignoring him. Of pretending that he had no interest in what Roman might get up to, so long as he wasn’t getting in his way. If this was some act, then it was the best acting he had ever seen because if Roman didn't know better, he would have sworn that the demon was honestly mad at him. He barely spoke to Roman, let alone look at him and although Roman would rather eat carrots than admit it, he was starting to feel a little lonely. Even their fight was better than the ice that had sprung up around them and who expected to feel cold in hell?

True to his word as well, Virgil only checked to make sure he was eating - the trick apparently was to place your hand on the cupboard or fridge and then to ask in a loud voice for whatever it was you wanted, making sure to say please and thank you. Then you would open it and lo and behold, there would be the food as requested. Roman still felt ridiculous, asking an inanimate object for food and thanking it, but he couldn’t deny that it worked. He had no idea where this food came from, if it was like the pizza or if it was demon food and he was just condemning himself to further pain by eating it but Virgil was never around to ask. Not that he wanted to ask, because that would mean caving first and he wasn’t going to be the one who started talking again.

Roman didn’t know where Virgil would vanish to every day but he had quickly learnt the demons routine. He would sleep late, stumble into the kitchen coming up to noon, make himself a coffee with a very grumpy expression. Then he would leave the house for most of the afternoon. Coming back, he always seemed much lighter, almost smiling before checking on Roman and then retreating to his bedroom for the rest of the night. Quite a few times, Roman had even heard emo music blaring from the demon’s room, although Virgil always turned it down around midnight. He still played it, because Roman had crept close once or twice and pressed an ear against the door to try and work out what was going on in there, only to hear the soft strains of Fall Out Boy or some other depressing band.

If he didn’t know better, he would almost say Virgil was being considerate about his house guest - his prisoner - and keeping it quiet late at night so Roman could sleep. As if he was getting his full eight hours of sleep in this house of horrors. He was vulnerable when he was sleeping, easy prey to whatever dastardly trick Virgil might have up his sleeve. Roman didn't know much sleep he managed to grab, fitful snatches only to be woken by fear.

Not that Virgil ever came into his room. Or seemed to take any advantage of the sleep that would inevitably claim him. He seemed determined not to be the sort of demon that Roman was expecting and that annoyed him almost as much as the situation itself did. Roman had enough problems without adding the fact that Virgil was not behaving as a kidnapper should into the mix.

It was hard to judge time when all the windows showed different views and he never left the house but there were a number of clocks dotted around the house. At first glance they only seemed to make the problem worse because they all moved at different speeds. The one in his room seemed the steadiest, seemed to actually move in seconds as he understood them and for a lack of any alternative he used that to track the passing hours and days he was trapped here.

Almost a whole week had passed in this manner.

It was all very... normal. Of course, Virgil was probably going out to torture innocent people in the afternoon and that was why he was always in such a good mood when he came back but somehow that explanation didn’t quite fit the situation. Roman knew it was part of Virgil’s trick, his game, but he was having a harder time picturing him doing anything actually evil.

That just proved that he really needed to get out of here before Stockholm Syndrome kicked in and he forgot why he was supposed to hate Virgil and fight against this whole mess.

It was time to try the front door while Virgil was still in the house. A terrible plan which would almost certainly not work but Roman at least had the element of surprise on his side. Roman wasn’t known for being patient and if the demon knew anything about him, he would know that. Which meant he wouldn’t normally wait a week before making a break for it, he would simply have the idea and go. So in theory, Virgil would have lowered his guard and wouldn’t expect him to try it.

That was the theory anyway.

This evening, Roman was going to find out if it was right. He made sure to linger around in the kitchen at the rough time that Virgil normally returned and true to form, the demon appeared in the kitchen with a faint smile on his face, almost humming a tune. Expression tightened a little, becoming more frozen as Virgil noticed Roman stood by the stove, slowly stirring the pasta sauce he was heating through. He had made sure to ask for the raw ingredients, trying to calm his nerves by cooking the whole thing from scratch. It was almost ready now and for the brief period of making it, Roman had been able to come as close to relaxing as it was possible for him to be, simply enjoying the smell of tomatoes and garlic filling the air.

For a moment, Virgil almost looked conflicted, a hint of something shining in those purple eyes before he turned away without so much of a word of greeting and vanished up the stairs to his room. As rude as ever it seemed.

So much the better, Roman serving himself a generous portion of food. He was going to need the energy if this worked. And if it didn’t. Roman ate slowly, every nerve on edge, screaming that this was a terrible plan, it was going to go wrong and Virgil was bound to suspect something by the way he had decided to cook for himself, the way he was eating it in the kitchen and then washing up. This was more time than he had ever spent in the common areas of the house and surely that was sending up all kinds of red flags.

With each passing second, he kept expecting to suddenly see a shadow appear, for Virgil to come storming down and demand to know the truth, possibly using his creepy scroll of power in order to force it out of him. That was another odd thing. Aside from that one moment back in the his own house, Virgil had never used the contract to force Roman to jump through any hoops, even when he had been angry at him. He had never gloated in that power as Roman would have expected.

Maybe it didn’t work like that down here?

Roman wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, for whatever reason Virgil wasn’t using it and that meant one less weapon in his opponents arsenal. One ever so slightly larger chance for him in turn, the final piece of washing up carefully returned to its correct place. What was he going to do once he got outside? It wasn’t as though there was likely to be any signs pointing the way back to his world. It would be away from here though and that had to be better. It had to.

His breath felt shallow, rapid little series of puffs of breath as he quietly crept down the hallway, the front door so close now. His whole arm was shaking as Roman reached out, convinced that it was a trap, that Virgil was watching or just as bad, that it wouldn’t open and his whole day of anxious hope and fear had been for nothing.

The door was unlocked.

It swung quietly open under his touch, Roman for a moment just blinking as he stared out down the path. For about fifty meters the illusion of normality continued, a small gravel path with grass and a couple of flowers on either side before it just ended. Barren wasteland bumped up against bright green grass as if someone had taken a giant clever and sliced a world in two before mashing it against a completely different place. Or as though the demon had scooped out a whole house and just dumped it into this landscape, bit of a garden and all.

No alarms sounded as he stood in the doorway and stared, no footsteps thundering down the stairs, no hint of anything at all. Just Roman looking out at two views at the same time. Thoughts snapped back to the moment at hand. He had the door open, there was nobody else in sight. Why on earth was he just standing there?

Legs felt like jelly as he half stumbled over the threshold and down the path, his gait rapidly picking up with every step until he was flat out running from the garden and into the desert like surrounding area, the wide, flat black road the only marker he had to go by. He ran until his chest was burning, until his legs threatened to give out under him, until he half stumbled, flecks of black flying up from where his shoes had skidded against the warm, sort of sticky like surface that made up the path he had been moving along.

It reminded Roman of a freshly laid road, still slightly tacky under foot. The smell was similar to, Roman almost bent double as he drew in great lungfuls of air, each one making the burning recede a little more. With his head closer to the road he could smell the familiar sickly odour of hot tar.

It was all very new and potentially confusing but Roman didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to solve the mystery one way or another. Sure, it was probably going to bug him when he was back home, wonder who had laid this road out and why it was so fresh. He would wonder about a lot of things about his time in Hell but Roman was fully prepared to live with the fact that he wouldn’t get the answers so long as it meant that he didn’t have to live here any longer. It was worth a mystery keeping him awake every now and then to be free.

Slowly, Roman straightened himself up, hand lifting to run through his hair as he considered his options. He couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face as the enormity of what he had actually done hit home. The demon had been defeated and Roman was out of that prisoner. A mere week and the bounds meant to hold him had given way until a mad dash for freedom.

Now all he had to do was find a way out of here. With no other real option, Roman simply started to walk. Away from the house, away from where Virgil was hopefully still oblivious to his escape. Away from a week of confusion and a surprising lack of pain.

Roman wasn’t sure how long he had been walking. The path seemed to stretch on forever, vanishing in a haze over the horizon without any landmarks to give him a sense of scale or hint that the end of his walk might be at hand. When he turned around to see how far he had come, there was nothing but the path behind him without even a dot on the far horizon to tell him where the house had stood. It felt as though he had been moving for miles, for hours and although he had yet to see any way out, at least he had managed to put some distance between himself and the house of his captor.

It had to have been a while now and yet the light was unchanging, something bright and harsh. The sun but not the sun, because there was none of that warmth Roman would have expected to feel on a hot summer's day. It reminded him more of the bright and terrible artificial lights that they would have in late night convenience stores, when you were there at two in the morning with your eyes almost burning from the lack of sleep as you stumbled around the shelves looking for your items.

He had been walking for hours. It felt like hours at least. On and on along the road which still smelled of baking tar, with a light that still shone harsher than the sun had any right to. For all of that however, he didn't feel thirsty. That was a little odd, because Roman knew he hadn’t bothered to have a drink before he left, he had been too worked up and focused only on his plan, on getting out of the house without being spotted.

He couldn’t really remember the last time he had a drink in fact, and that should be a worry surely? Roman couldn’t quite find it within himself to be concerned about that, pushing aside the thought after a moment of considering it. Really, he should be thankful he wasn;t thirsty yet, pleased that he had managed to get as far as he had without being slowed down by the need for food or drink.

At least he wasn’t being chased by an angry Virgil. And the demon had tried to scare him with claims that he wouldn’t get anywhere before he was jumped by some other monster. He had come so far without seeing a single other soul, without so much as a hint that there was anything else alive here. Or anything else not alive but very much evil and intent on hurting him.

He smiled a little at the thought. Virgil had underestimated him. Had thought that Roman Sanders was the sort to be put off by vague threats and possibilities that might not mean anything. Just as he had hoped, it had turned out to be nothing more than hot air, and there was no danger in front of him, just the possibility of being caught from behind.

A tiny part of him almost wanted Virgil to show up just so he could realise how wrong he had been about everything. Roman longed to see that smug crooked smirk wiped off his pale face. He desired Virgil to know that he had been beaten, defeated by a human that he had thought so little of, that he couldn’t even be bothered to guard him properly. He hungered for a revenge that he could actually witness, one that would remain fresh in the mind for a long time, something he could use to tell his parents about.

"Well, what do we have here? A lost soul? What are you doing wandering alone on the highway of the damned?” Words echoed around his skull - no around the area. It still made him wince, side stepping a little as he tried to stop the ringing in his ears.

A tall man stepped out from behind a boulder, one that Roman could have sworn hadn’t existed a second ago. His hair was scraped back, slicked with gel to lie flat against his skull. Thick glasses with frames as black as his hair did nothing to disguise the sharp blue eyes which seemed to pierce Roman as surely as if they were blades. It was almost not a surprise to look down past his face and the stern expression there, to see that he was wearing a shirt and necktie.

He looked like a college professor. Albeit a scary colleague professor but still, someone who should be at a desk or in front of a board. Giving a lecture about history or maths, breaking students brains with complicated dates or equations.

“Who... who are you?” Roman was proud of the way his voice only slightly fractured. Sure, he didn’t look like a monster btu then honestly, neither had Virgil and that had still turned out terribly for him. The other man’s lips quirked upwards for a fraction of a second in what could have been a smile before the expression smothered away into a blank one. It was something empty and far more frightening than any scowl could be.

“You may call me Logic. May I have your name lost soul?”

Roman opened his mouth to answer before shutting it again with a snap, a faint, slightly confused expression on his face. That... was a strange way to talk. A strange way to ask for a name, and people didn’t talk like that.

What was it Virgil had said? Not to trust or give anything without thinking about it properly first.

Roman didn’t know if he could trust Virgil. Then again, he doubted he could trust this person who had to be a demon because of the weird not name and the simple fact that he was here at all. It all boiled down to the lesser of two evils - did he trust the words Virgil had said and try and protect his name, possibly annoying this Logic in the process or did he throw aside the warning and say a simple name, and instead potentially earn an ally. Maybe Logic would help him get home and he could use the help right about now.

“Are you perhaps hindered in the hearing department? I asked you for something. May I have your name, lost soul?”

Exactly the same wording as before, colder this time, a chill to the words that made Roman want to shiver, something cold running down his spine. It wasn’t right. Whatever was going on here wasn’t normal and he had to go with the theory that Logic was a threat. The choice was made in a snap and sure Virgil was evil but then Roman had to go with the assumption that everyone down here was evil. It was what demons were typically known for after all. What had he been thinking, debating, even for a second inside of his head that there could be a good demon down here or at least one that wasn’t interested in tearing him to pieces? Why had he allowed that little whisper of hope and the thoughts of how he could get his own back on Virgil overwhelm what Roman knew had to be the truth? He shrugged, trying to put on a casual air as he finally replied.

“I don’t think you need to know it, I’m only passing through.”

Logic made a tutting sound, something old and spine chilling. A shiver passed down Roman’s spine despite his best efforts not to react.

“Souls do not ‘pass through’ here. You’re someone's and they were foolish enough to let you go wandering all alone like a tasty little treat. Who knows who could have stumbled upon you. I passed by Printer on my way here, and he would have enjoyed finding you. I do not believe you would have found the experience quite so pleasing. You are lucky it was only I who found you, little morsel.”

For a brief moment, Roman remembered his thoughts about Virgil and how he had wanted to know the demons reaction to realising his trophy had done a runner, how he had imagined the shock and surprise on his stupid face.

That desire seemed stronger now, something positively spiteful. It churned away inside of his chest, almost a living, breathing thing, pressing against his rib cage. It squirmed and shuddered there, impossible to ignore, demanding that he get his revenge. That he somehow use this demon to get his revenge perhaps and they were the sort to turn on each other, maybe this one would want to help him hurt Virgil. He did... want to hurt Virgil didn’t he? Virgil had kidnapped him, had kept him locked up, had threatened and scared him. He might not have carried out any threat but that was only because Roman had managed to get away first. He still wanted his revenge... or so he thought.

This fury beating in time to his heart didn’t feel... right. Roman wasn’t sure he wanted that anymore but at the same time he couldn’t help but feel it. Something filling up inside and he simply couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t get enough, each thought swirling into the next one, over and over until all he could focus on was that desire to get his revenge. It far outweighed the little voice that whispered he might not want that anymore.

Even his thoughts of getting home, of getting freedom seemed to fade in comparison to that urge.

“Come home with me little soul, I am... curious about you. I would like to know... everything that makes you, you,” Logan offered, still speaking in that even, reassuring tone. It was the sort of voice that almost begged you to trust it, that oozed safety, security. It was a voice that belonged to someone in a position of power, someone who was going to look after you.

Roman swallowed heavily, mouth dry, his tongue almost sticking to the roof of it as he tried to focus. He wanted to say no but his thoughts felt muddled, thick and confused. Revenge and the desire to do what the man wanted were in his mind, pressing against the doubts, the worry that he shouldn’t listen. The man held out a hand, offering him a smile that was completely devoid of any warmth, anything comforting.

No. No, he didn’t want to accept the hand. He didn’t want to do this.

His legs took a step forward anyway, drawing him away from the centre of the road and towards the demon that was waiting for him. Was that the sound of wings? It was hard to hear anything over the frantic beat of his heart in his ears, a heavy thump, thump, thump which only added to the growing confusion in his thoughts, the urge to just stop thinking at all and simply do what the demon wanted without any further fuss sounding an odd note. It was a compelling idea however and once he had thought it, Roman found he couldn’t quite shake it.

He felt an itch in his mind, a pressing urge to rub at it, to find out what it was that Logic wanted to learn from him. Perhaps he could learn something from the demon in turn. Roman licked his lips, trying desperately to get some moisture back.

Finally, his mind focused, enough for him to fumble towards an answer of sorts. He couldn’t just accept this. But maybe, like he had thought originally, he could get something out of this. Something to make it worth his while.

“You’ll help me leave here if I do?”

“Of course,” Logic smoothly replied, the smile growing wider without any corresponding warmth or humour. It didn’t look like a smile in the way that Roman would have considered a smile, but maybe that was just how demon’s looked.

“I give you my word you shall never have to see this place again if you come with me.”

Alarm bells were ringing in his ears, battling with his heartbeat. He shouldn’t trust Logic. He should. Logic had given his word and Virgil said that demon’s were normally truthful. Virgil had also said something about them trying to twist the truth but that didn’t seem as important right now. Roman wanted to cry a little, his mind pulling him this way and that, shouting that he should trust Logic, that he should just keep running, turn away and keep heading in the direction away from the house. Demon’s were nothing but trouble.

His legs took another step independently of his mind, away from the centre of the road.

Roman just wanted to go home.

"Logic."

Roman would never have thought he would be grateful to see that black hoodie, the shorter demon suddenly appearing in front of him, bodily placing himself between Roman and Logic, the sound of strong beating wings from before filling his mind once more. For a brief fraction of a second there was even the overwhelming feeling of large wings spread from Virgil’s back, an iridescent flash of metallic colour which took his breath away before the image was gone and it was just Virgil standing there between the two of them.

Virgil didn’t have wings. He looked just as he had always done. All Roman could see was his back and yet it was still enough to know that Virgil was hunched over, that he was clearly in the grip of some powerful emotion. Powerful enough to all but spit the name out in that strange dual tone which vibrated around the road like a living entity of its own.

“Stay away from my human!”

Roman blinked a couple of times, the cobwebs fading from his mind and what was he doing moving towards Logic? He was meant to be moving away from all demons, he had planned to keep going and yet he was almost within touching distance of another demon. He was within touching distance of Virgil.

So much for his grand escape attempt.

If it hadn’t been for Virgil suddenly appearing when he did, Roman would have stepped right off the road into the waiting arms of the other demon. He wasn’t sure what would have happened then. Something in his gut told him nothing good.

Logic lifted a hand to adjust his glasses in an almost absent minded fashion. It seemed more for something to do than actually needing to see better.

"We were only talking Anxiety. So this is your human is it? An odd choice to be sure,” Logic replied calmly. He was still staring at Roman, blue eyes burning a hole in him and Roman found he couldn’t look away. That itch in his mind grew, a whisper that he should step around Virgil, that he should reject the protection so freely offered and go with Logic after all.

Roman shook his head roughly, jaw clenching. Those weren’t his own thoughts. They couldn’t be his own thoughts because now that Roman could focus, he knew better than to trust any demon. There was no way that this Logic character would be better than Virgil, no way he could trust himself to the tender mercies of the other demon. Not when he had been so intent on taking Roman away from the road, to his own home and probably a new cell.

The way he was talking to Virgil as if Roman wasn’t even there or capable of understanding his words didn’t help either.

“Take better care of your thrall Anxiety, the next demon that finds him might not be as kind as I. They might not ask questions first and you were almost too slow. Out of practise of course. Should you desire any help with your human I would be happy to oblige, I do have great experience when it comes to getting what I want from the souls of humans.”

“I don’t need your help,” Virgil snapped, voice shifting back to a more normal human tone although it was still heavy and thick with anger. Logic nodded thoughtfully, still seemingly unphased by the anger that still burned brightly from the other demon and Roman couldn’t understand how he managed to remain so cool and calm. If it had been Roman, he would have been returning fire with fire. There was something about Virgil that just got under his skin, the demon making every nerve end stand up in fury. All he had to do was open his mouth and Roman wanted to fight him.

How Logic wasn’t affected was beyond him.

“No I suppose you have your own source to turn to when you have any desires. Still, I confess I am curious about this human. He... is a fascinating creature.”

“Get used to disappointment,” Virgil replied with a huff. His whole body seemed to be shaking from some kind of barely repressed energy and Roman didn’t understand why he was so angry. Unless it was just a territory thing and even Virgil hadn’t used his name, had just reduced him to the label of human, of ownership. Maybe they were all nothing more than overly large dogs just going around marking their boundaries.

“Oh come now Anxiety, we are all friends here. Why not let me borrow the human for a little while? You are clearly not using it as you are supposed to. A day with me might make it more willing to behave with you...” Logic offered, voice trailing off as if he had just made the most tempting argument around instead of trying to borrow a living, breathing person.

Roman really should say something. They were still talking over him, still discussing what was going to happen to him without even pretending that Roman had any say it in at all. If nothing else, he should take the opportunity to try and make a run for it. He probably wouldn’t get very far but that wasn’t the point. The point was... the point was... well, there was a point and Roman was meant to be making it, even if he couldn’t quite focus on what it was right now.

He was still so hungry though and that overwhelmed everything else. Burning in him, devouring him from the inside out and there was nothing that Roman could do to control those desires. He needed an outlet, he needed to give in to those feelings, to let them out because holding them in as he was doing was just making everything feel that much worse. His whole body was humming, an electric spark which ran the length of his skin and there didn’t seem to be any escape from it, any relief that he could find.

Food, he wanted food, forget revenge or the need to get even. Forget anything as complicated as that, what he needed was to fill that ache inside of him. It was something simpler, something so basic and needed. He wanted to gorge himself on as much food as possible until he couldn’t so much as move from the table. Until he had passed comfortably full and gone right to feeling sick. Roman wanted to eat that much, he wanted to just eat and eat and e-

Suddenly, he could feel something curl around his ankle, a thin band of something pressing against his trouser leg, wrapping itself around his cuff. It was cool to the touch, even through his trousers. The sensation made all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end, breath catching in his throat. He didn’t want to look down. Roman wasn’t exactly sure what was down there, what was touching him, but as with so much down here, his mind told him it was nothing good. That ignorance, in this matter, might actually be bliss. Just this once, he didn’t want to have to be brave, he didn’t want to look down. Just this once, he kept his head high, staring at the two demons in front of him.

“You’re always curious and you’re going to have to deal with that. Not. Today. Logic,” Virgil all but spat the words, his shoulders still hunched up rather like hackles. The other demon shook his head, giving a soft, tutting like sound as he did. It reminded Roman of one of his old school teachers when he had turned in a less than stellar report. Not angry, just disappointed.

“That is a saying to live by... fine, I’m going, I have things to do anyway. I shall no doubt see you soon Anxiety. And you... what did you say your name was?” Logic asked again, those eyes snapping back to Roman and pinning him in place. What little thought he had about running died in his mind and Roman couldn’t even move from his position. It was as though he was rooted in place and by something more than whatever was still wrapped firmly around his ankle.

“He didn’t,” Virgil snapped, not even giving Roman a chance to reply. Roman couldn’t help but feel grateful for that at least. He could feel his name rising up in his throat, those eyes compelling him to answer before Virgil was shutting that down and letting him breath a fraction more freely. “He knows better than to give something that precious away so easily.”

"Your tail is showing," Logic commented mildly, still seeming more amused than anything else by the hostility that was radiating off Virgil in hot waves.

Instinctively, despite the urge not to, Roman looked down at the same time Virgil did.

A thin, dark tail was wrapped around his ankle, no doubt the same cool something he had felt moments ago. The same thing that snaked across the ground and upwards, vanishing under Virgil’s hoodie. A tail. There was... a tail. Attached to Virgil. Virgil... had a tail.

Cursing softly, the tail rapidly uncoiled itself from around Roman's ankle, flicking away from him. It vanished mid swing, shimmering away into nothing and if it wasn’t for the panic that was still rushing through him in great waves, Roman might have doubted his own senses. There was no denying what he had seen though, no matter how much his mind scrambled to find some sensible, real world explanation for it. That had been a tail. A demonic... tail.

Roman lifted his head to stare at Virgil, eyes wide. Of course demons had tails, so of course Virgil would have a tail. It stood to reason he would have wings and horns too and yet to actually see more than just a hint of that demonic presence was so shocking somehow. Virgil had always seemed so normal. Just another grumpy teen despite the reality of the hellscape around them and it was easy for Roman to forget that he wasn’t actually human. Despite everything that had happened and the sheer power over him that Virgil had shown he possessed, he still struggled to realise how much of a threat he actually was, perhaps because Virgil had never actually seemed interested in threatening him or hurting him. He kept him here, but he had seemed curiously detached from it all and perhaps it was too much to hope that Virgil might be an ally - but Roman wanted to see if he could be less of an enemy than Logic.

For a moment, the image of wings outlined by the sun rose in his mind, a stark outline that seemed to burn itself into his brain before it vanished again, leaving him wondering what he had just thought of.

“Until next time Anxiety.”

Roman blinked a couple of times, Logic finally turning away. With that complete loss of eye contact went the last of the remaining few cobwebs that lingered in his mind. Hunger filled the spaces instead, pressing in all around him. Another moment and then that hunger solidified in his chest, shifting to something that was not food related in the slightest. It was a different sort of craving, a different hunger that nothing like that would satisfy. He could eat and drink for days and it wouldn’t fill the new hole that had appeared inside of him. This was something far darker, far more abstract. Nothing that he could simply will away or ignore.

Roman barely noticed Logic vanishing with a sharp crack like sound.

Gaze was fixed on the demon in front of him, eyes narrowing into sharp little slits as he stared, and suddenly, everything made sense.

Virgil.

Pretty, pretty, pretty Virgil. Who owned his soul but hadn’t hurt him.

Whose purple eyes were staring into him and into his soul. Pretty Virgil who made his heart quiver now that he allowed himself to actually think about it. The same demon that had looked after him, that had protected him and he was so very attractive. How had Roman never realised quite how attractive Virgil was before now? They had been living together for nearly a week and he was only just now taking note of eyes which left him speechless. His cheekbones were sharp and well defined, a line he ached to trace with his fingers.

Skin no longer seemed too pale but rather an enchanting shade of white which only made the contrast of his hair and those already mentioned eyes that much more striking and beautiful. Those eyes which were like liquid amethysts, a molten metal sheen to them that would no doubt burn him if he got too close - but oh how Roman wanted to get close. He didn’t care anymore about the risks, about the fact that Virgil had kidnapped him, that he was holding him prisoner. He didn’t care about any of that, not when his mind was spinning beautiful fantasies about the various aspects of the impossibly attractive demon.

Such as his hair which was so soft and positively begged him to run his hands through it, to play with it and kiss at the hairline, to see what sort of sort noises he could coax from him. Virgil seemed like the sort to be soft with those he cared about, a gooey centre masked by the hard facade he tried to present to the world.

“Hey dude, you okay?” Virgil’s voice sounded a little distorted, a little odd, as if he were hearing it under water. Roman shook his head a little, as if trying to dislodge some water from his ears, but the movement only made him feel a little lightheaded for a moment. “Roman?”

It was still by far the most beautiful sound he thought he had ever heard. It seemed angelic rather than demonic, a melody that he would never grow tired of listening to. Roman wanted to hear his name being spoken in Virgil’s raspy tones again and again. He wanted to just listen to him talk, the topic didn’t matter so long as he was speaking to him.

Roman swallowed heavily.

That hunger was still there, a roaring, raging fire now. It demanded attention, demanded he do something other than just stand there, gaping like an idiot. He felt physically hot as well, more than just inside of him, but a sweat on top of that, something which made him feel almost lightheaded. It grew worse the longer he stood there without doing anything, without solving that hunger which clawed at him. His clothes felt too tight, as though he was suddenly wearing an outfit that was a size too small for him.

Movements were jerky, uncertain as he started to close the gap between them. Virgil actually moved as well, meeting him halfway, a concerned look on his face that only made him that much more attractive. He was worried for Roman, the thought causing a flutter of excited butterflies to spring to life inside his stomach. Virgil was worried which had to mean that he saw Roman as something more than... whatever it was that demon’s actually did to the humans they seemed keen on ensnaring.

He had been so good to him. So kind. Even when Roman had been nothing but rude back, Virgil had still made sure he was safe, had given him food. He had come after him and protected him from Logic and Roman knew now that going with the other demon would have been a terrible mistake. Virgil had saved him from that when it would have surely been easier to just leave him. He had already said that he didn’t want a human soul and what better way to get out of it than let someone steal him - but Virgil hadn’t done that. Virgil hadn’t abandoned him like his parents had done.

“Roman?” Virgil repeated again, his voice as odd and as broken as before. As beautiful as before too, and he didn’t bother answering which words. Instead, Roman reached out, his hands cupping Virgil’s face, staring deep into his eyes looking for... well, Roman wasn’t really sure what he was searching for. Whatever it was, he could feel that hunger shifting inside of him, demanding more and more. Just touching Virgil wasn’t enough, he needed more of whatever it was. He needed to do... something.

Virgil wasn’t pulling away. His mouth was forming a shape, a question of some sort but all Roman could think about was the fact that he hadn’t pulled away. Which had to mean that he wanted this too, that he was content for this to happen.

Whatever this was.

No, Roman knew what this was. He knew what this hungry was now, and perhaps he had always known it was going to go this way but just hadn’t been ready to accept it. Roman accepted it now. It was impossible to ignore, from the way he thought of how attractive the demon was, to the way he was staring at his face, eyes on those lips which were positively begging him to press his own against and see if they really were as soft and supple as they seemed. Virgil had to want him to do this. Why else would he be letting Roman touch, if not because he wanted him to take the lead?

Roman surged forward without another thought, lips pressing harshly against Virgil’s own, catching him in a giddy kiss.

Chapter Text

For a long few moments, all Virgil could do was kiss back.

He wasn’t blind. Roman was incredible attractive - for a human. Virgil had known that from the moment he had first set eyes on him. Kissing Roman was not exactly a hardship. They seemed to fit into each other, Virgil’s hands lifting to catch at Roman’s hips, drawing him in close as the human kissed enthusiastically. It would be only too easy to remain swept up in this moment, to just let Roman keep kissing until he forgot everything else and really, Virgil wasn’t opposed to the idea of kissing the human per say. If it was Roman’s actual choice.

This wasn’t Roman though.

His human was all fire and rage and hate. He was more likely to spit a curse at Virgil than sweep him up in a romantic kiss that would put Remy’s own to shame. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t want this.

So that meant, this had to be Logic’s influence.

The hunger demon leaving one last nasty little ‘gift’ behind, something for Virgil to have to deal with. Although, knowing Logic, he probably thought he was being kind by doing this. Giving the whole thing a little nudge to get going, twisting Roman just a fraction in order to see what would happen. That was just the sort of thing Logic would do, he always had to push things further, he had to see what would happen, no matter the cost. All because Logic thought his way was the only way to do things.

Everyone thought that they knew best, that there was something wrong with Virgil, that he was broken in some way because he didn’t act like a normal demon, because he didn’t want the things the underworld told him he was supposed to want. Even his own father was convinced that there was something wrong with him, that he had somehow managed to break his only son.

Everyone except Remy of course, but then everyone thought there was something wrong with him too, something that only some human suffering could cure. As if either of them had any interest in that. It might make them more powerful but what did power bring except for added responsibilities, added weight? More eyes on you and the higher you managed to get, the more chance you had to fall. The more dramatic the fall too and really, why demons wanted to risk falling was beyond him. It was yet another thing Virgil knew he was lucky to have missed, to be one of the later generations of demons and not involved with any Fall or decision on the part of the Gods as to who was good and who was bad. He had missed the wars of all religions, been spared that horror and he was duly grateful. Just not enough to behave as his father wanted him to.

Virgil was still kissing Roman.

He was cute, he had thought that from the start. It had been about the only upside to this whole stupid plan of his fathers. At least he had a good view and there were far worse humans he could have ended up with. And clearly, Roman thought he was attractive back, which was odd but also reassuring. It just proved that his human was an odd one. An odd one but his in apparently more ways than Virgil had first imagined, because Roman liked him.

The thought cheered him up ever so slightly. Logic couldn’t make a hunger appear, he could only fan the flames into a raging inferno. Which meant that some part of Roman had to want to kiss him. Even if it was a tiny, barely there part, there had at least been the passing thought about Virgil and about what it would be like to kiss him.

So maybe he wasn’t being too horrible. This was still partly Roman and he hadn’t taken all his choices away from him by letting the kiss linger. Anyway, he was a demon. He wasn’t supposed to care about things like that. Roman belonged to him and by every rule and law that demon’s followed, Virgil was allowed to do whatever he liked to the human, be it kiss, kill or anything in between. The human’s rights were none existent. Nobody would bat an eyelid at Virgil kissing, if that was what he decided he wanted to do. After all, the human was pretty and he might as well be put to work doing something he was good at. Roman was very good at kissing.

Nobody would care, beyond the idea that Virgil was finally behaving as a demon should at last.

Virgil would care though.

This was wrong and Virgil knew it. He knew he couldn’t take advantage of Roman like this, no matter how much he was enjoying it right now, because he knew the truth. Even though there was a part of Roman that wanted this, there had to be a much larger part that did not and Virgil couldn’t keep hurting him like this.

Remy was going to have the time of his life when he heard about this. Not only the kissing itself but the way in which Virgil had been forced to... ugh... show some restraint. Resist temptation. He was pretty sure that was meant to be impossible for demons and yet here he was, about to give it his best shot.

“Hades give me strength...” Virgil mumbled softly, pulling away from the kiss as best he could.

Roman gave a distinctly un-Roman like whine of protest, trying to follow him, hands curling tighter around his arms as he searched for more kisses, trying to catch the shorter demon’s face but Virgil remained strong, keeping a distance between them. If Roman started to kiss him again, he doubted he would have the willpower to pull away a second time.

If Virgil hadn’t been sure before, he would have been now. No way his Roman would have made such a noise if he had been in full control of himself. It was far too needy, far too submissive, willing to offer himself up and just for the sake of kisses from a demon he had claimed to hate. No, Virgil had to focus on his original theory, that this was Logic’s doing and so had to be resisted.

“Why did you stop?” Roman asked with a pout, apparently realising he wasn’t going to just be able to claim more kisses as he had apparently wanted. Roman’s eyes were so wide, so trusting and hopeful. They were everything Virgil could hope to see in them - and they were everything he knew he didn’t deserve. Virgil had done nothing to warrant such faith in him and it made him feel guilty knowing Roman was acting in a way so contrary to his usual behaviour.

Despite all of that, Virgil couldn’t help but lift a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Roman’s ear, the human instantly leaning into the touch with a soft little sigh, eyes fluttering closed in apparent contentment.

This... really wasn’t fair. He wasn’t designed to cope with this. He was a demon for goodness sake.

After a couple of blissful seconds, Roman opened his eyes again, a quizzical expression in them and oh yes, he had asked Virgil a question before he had managed to derail the thought process completely by being so adorable. Again, not fair. Virgil really wished Remy was here. Even if he would just make fun of him, Remy at least was better at this sort of stuff. He would be able to distract Roman and keep things moving, he would be able to comfort Virgil too and all the demon wanted was to wrap his arms around Remy and let the other take all the bad stuff away. Instead, he had to actually face things himself.

“We shouldn’t kiss here,” Virgil explained, trying to ignore the little flutter of desire that whispered he could if he so wanted. Roman was going to hate him enough already, and Virgil wanted a peaceful existence at home. It was hard enough living with a human that always seemed one wrong word away from tossing a plate at him, he wasn’t going to change just because they had shared a couple of kisses. If anything, he was going to hate him even more and things were going to get even more tense at home. Perhaps Virgil could spend more of his time at Remy’s, he had said he could come over whenever he wanted. Then again, if he just abandoned Roman in his house who knew what could happen? Beyond some vague and ill defined ‘bad’.

“Home then?” Roman suggested, still slotted in perfectly against Virgil, as if he had been born for it. Virgil exhaled, calling upon more restraint, energy he hadn’t realised he possessed and he could do this. He had to do this, he just had to get through this next second and then the one after that. Each second at a time and each issue as it came.

Home. Roman had always been very clear that Virgil’s house was not that, another reminder - as if he needed one - that his human was being affected by something outside of his control.

“Sure,” Virgil agreed softly, and at least inside he could make sure the doors were locked. Nothing was getting in or out. Of course, that left him alone with Roman but at least he would be safe. “Close your eyes please?”

Roman did so without hesitation, the easy motion almost making Virgil feel sick.

He didn’t like this - he had thought he would like a Roman that didn’t argue and scream at him all the time, that actually did the things that he asked when it was for his own good but now he was finding out it wasn’t nearly as nice as he had imagined. Virgil would give almost anything to have Roman rant and rave at him once more. To pull himself free and insist that he could do it his way and that he didn’t need any help.

Instead, Roman laid his head on Virgil’s shoulder, dipping a little to account for his height but apparently completely trusting Virgil to protect them both. It was new and like almost everything new, unpleasant, the motion twisting something up inside of his chest. It was all wrong, Roman was all wrong and he wanted his angry but honest human back. This couldn’t last forever right? Virgil didn’t have much experience with using his so called gifts, but he knew that they were finate, there was a limit on them, an end and surely even someone as powerful and as knowledgeable as Logic couldn’t control someone forever.

It was simply a matter of waiting the whole thing out. He could do that. He had to do that. Grumbling softly under his breath, Virgil closed his own eyes and willed them back home. It was harder to move like this, to slip sideways through the world but he had a fixed location in mind, a tether to tie himself to and use it to pull them both to where he wanted to go. He could have just used his wings of course, Roman was clinging to him tightly enough that it would be safe but they were aching from his previous effort.

Virgil had already flown to try and catch up with Roman, he was in no hurry to use his wings again. His own fault for not using them enough, but they were yet another painful reminder of everything he didn’t want to be. Which meant he had to use the portal to get them both off the street as quickly as possible.

The world was sucked away from them, Virgil drawing in a breath as they were both pulled off their feet, vanishing through the ring of flames that had appeared to their left. It didn’t matter how often he used them, Virgil never got used to falling sideways. There was just something distinctly unpleasant about it which always put him a little on edge. Still better than flying. Or, for that matter, walking.

Basically, no matter how much he might dislike it, it was still better than actually putting in any physical effort on his part.

They reappeared in the living room, the front door still ajar from where Virgil had raced through it upon realising Roman wasn’t in the house. The human made no effort to move from the embrace and it was getting harder and harder to remember why Virgil was so against this happening. It was harder to remember why he was denying himself something that promised to be a whole lot of fun - oh. Yeah. The consequences. Which again, wasn’t really a word many demons tended to bother themselves with, but he found himself staring them in the face all the same.

“Can we kiss now?” Roman mumbled hopefully, nuzzling against Virgil’s neck and this was impossible. He was impossible.

Virgil wasn’t used to affection at all. Not unless it came from Remy but he always knew where he stood with Remy, he always knew what the other demon wanted and what he was like. Roman was someone completely new and thus frightening. He didn’t understand any of this and Virgil had to put an end to it. For his own sanity and peace of mind come the morning. If he was lucky, Roman might even be so embarrassed that he just didn’t mention it and then that was one less awkward conversation to have. Virgil certainly wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up first.

Frantically, he cast his mind about for some reason to delay kissing Roman despite the human wanting it while he came up with a plan. Wait. Delay. That was all he had to do full stop. He just had to delay Roman or distract him long enough for Logic’s influence to wane and for Roman’s actual personality to come to the forefront once more.

Give him enough time and the real Roman would be back in charge, the one that would no doubt be horrified at himself. The one that hated Virgil. It was more than just the right thing to do, it was the thing that Virgil knew he had to do - so why did a small part of him almost want to get Logic back here and keep Roman confused?

Not for the first time, and no doubt not for the last, Virgil found himself wishing that Remy was here. His rock, his north star, his everything. It wasn’t even like he could ask himself; ‘what would Remy do’ and get an answer because Remy operated on a logic all of his own. In this kind of situation, he could decide to push Roman away. Or he could just accept it and start kissing him back. There was really no way to judge which way Remy would behave at any given time. He was unpredictable like that.

If it had been anyone else, that personality trait would have driven Virgil away long ago. It was Remy though. It always came back to that; it was Remy and so the normal rules didn’t apply to him. He got to do things that nobody else could do. His best friend was awesome like that.

Virgil shook his head slightly, forcing his mind back to the matter at hand, and to Roman who looked about ten seconds away from trying to kiss him again, head tilted just a fraction down, something warm and soft in his expression. It was the sort of look that Virgil knew shouldn’t be aimed at him.

“How about this Roman? Come the morning we can kiss if you still want. All the kissing, whatever you want to do tomorrow, we can do it. But tomorrow, not right now.”

Roman pulled away at that, finally putting some distance between them. Thank Hades, because Virgil lacked the strength to do that himself and it had been killing him having Roman so close and knowing that the whole thing was doomed. Everything was doomed in the end, but usually he was much more accepting of it. That was just the way things worked.

“Why can’t we kiss now?” Roman asked, a positively sulky expression on his face. It shouldn’t be as attractive as it was, but then, as Virgil was quickly finding out, he could apply that to a lot of things about Roman. He was only a human, and yet he was almost... intriguing. Appealing. Like a siren, he caught his attention even when Virgil didn’t want him to.

“Because the day will have taken a lot out of you, and I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Virgil told him carefully. Roman shook his head, still protesting.

“That's very sweet of you but I feel fine.”

“Yeah now. I don’t want you to fall asleep on me mid-kiss,” Virgil explained, ruthlessly squashing down the guilt he felt at the half lie. It was true - he didn’t think his anxiety could handle the humiliation of someone falling asleep when they were supposed to be kissing him. It would be soul destroying and not in the way that he normally understood.

It was just, that wasn’t his only reason. Or even the main reason. Roman hummed softly, eyebrows drawing together a little as he considered Virgil’s words before giving a little resigned shrug.

“Fine. A goodnight kiss at least then?”

Temptation yet again. And Virgil was no saint, not by a long shot. There was only so much he could be expected to cope with. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing the lightest kiss against Roman’s forehead, unable to resist the smirk that twitched on his features at the unimpressed stare he was now getting. This was almost as good as actually kissing, making Roman squirm and for a brief whole second, Virgil allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if this was real. If Roman really wanted him to kiss. Making him sulk like that would be very entertaining, as would making it up to him later. But it wasn’t real of course. He didn’t need it to be real.

“Tomorrow,” Virgil promised, skirting around the issue as best he could. A lie that wasn’t a lie, he was practised in those if nothing else. “We can talk and... stuff.”

“I’ll hold you to that stuff,” Roman replied with a wink, his good mood returning in an instant and this version of Roman was certainly easier to please if nothing else. With a slight yawn, hand drifting up to his face, Roman turned and shuffled off up the stairs, Virgil watching him go. Without Roman’s eyes on him, Virgil let the smirk shift into a sadder, more resigned smile.

“No, you won’t,” he whispered softly, words too low for anyone else to hear.

Not that he wanted Roman to hold him to that. He didn’t want to kiss Roman. Well, maybe a little, he had imagined what it would be like if Roman liked him like that. He had enjoyed imagining what it would be like if things were different. If they were better but he was a pessimistic realistic, he knew there was no chance of that happening so it was easier to just push the thought from his mind and act as if he had never wanted it in the first place. This whole thing had been a nightmare that seemed never ending.

Now that he was no longer supporting him, it was clear that Roman was honestly exhausted, the human weaving and wobbled a little on the stairs as he ascended them. He kept moving at least, Virgil not relaxing until he heard the tell tell sound of Roman’s door clicked shut behind him. From the way he had looked while going up the stairs, he would probably be asleep within minutes.

It was over. It was all finally over and Roman was safe for the moment. Virgil felt his whole body sag in relief, air escaping his lungs as he made his way over to the front door and pushed it shut, locking it a few seconds later. Nothing was getting in or out now. Except for Remy if he wanted. Or his dad. But he wasn’t worried about the former and Virgil couldn’t even remember the last time the later had actually come to see him. His father always summoned him, normally to his work. Yet another power play, another example of everything Virgil hated about being a demon and wanted to avoid.

With a shake of his head, he moved into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of ice cold soda from the fridge. Going outside was thirsty work and maybe he should have insisted Roman have a glass of water before he went to bed? Frowning, Virgil stared upwards towards the ceiling, as though he could magically see through it towards the bedrooms. It was too late anyway, Roman was bound to be asleep or nearly by now, and if Virgil showed up in his room he might take it to mean something completely different.

Grimacing to himself, Virgil took a large swig of his drink, gulping the soda down. That had been close. Too close. Virgil couldn’t help the spike of fear that rushed through him at the thought of what could have happened if he had been slower. Logic had been so near to stealing his human. Virgil knew what happened to human souls that went into Logic’s domain. He had no hesitation in draining them in order to get what he wanted from them and he was rarely gentle about it either.

Logic wasn’t even the worst out there, not by a long shot. There was Antagonist of course, always playing the role with almost demented relish. There was Procrastination, although as his title suggested, he was not exactly the most inspired of the demons around.

There was his father.

Not even Virgil dared to imagine what could have happened if it had been his dad who had found Roman. The outcome would have been terrible for both of them. If nothing else, Virgil could be grateful that it hadn’t been him they had met on the road.

This couldn’t continue.

When Roman next left his room, he was going to have to try and have another conversation with the human, try and convince him yet again of the dangers down here. No doubt Roman wouldn’t listen, but he had to at least try and Virgil didn’t know how to prove that he really wasn’t after anything. Virgil would give Roman almost anything he wanted, would do almost anything he could to try and make him content with his new life.

The irony of that wasn’t lost on Virgil.

Because the one thing Roman wanted - his freedom - was the one thing that Virgil couldn’t give him.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

--

Roman woke up with a terrible headache, a tightening around his whole skull as though someone had strapped a metal band around his head and had progressively tightened it during the night. Twisting the screw tighter and tighter until it felt as if his actual head might explode from the pressure. Without really thinking about it, he lifted a hand to his forehead, almost expecting to feel something physically there.

His skin felt clammy to the touch, a cold sweat across his brow, hair almost slick with it. It was disgusting and if Roman didn’t feel so gross already he would have shuddered as he feebly wiped the palm of his hand against the cover, trying to brush away the sensation of cold sweat.

If it was just his head that was killing him, Roman might have been able to cope with it. But it wasn’t. His whole body protested when he tried to move more than an inch. It was as though he had been run over by a steamroller. And then his flattened remains had been gathered up, stuffed inside some container and used as a ball for a game of soccer. Quite possibly after that, the ball had then been used as target practice on an air gun range.

What had happened last night?

Had he somehow managed to get hold of a lot of alcohol and then tried to drown his sorrows? Or even further, tried to drown himself in drink? He certainly felt as though he had gone a couple of rounds with the gods of booze. It wasn’t outside the realms of possibility that he had just gotten completely drunk but somehow that didn’t sound quite right. He couldn’t say exactly why, the sensation he was currently feeling certainly felt as if he had been drinking and yet - and yet. Something lingered in his mind, bothering him.

Whatever had happened felt far too painful to be able to deal with it right now. Roman just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. He could try again in a couple of hours, when maybe the room wasn’t as hazy and his head not as tight as if his skull had somehow shrunk in the night and was now a size too small for him. Sleep would make a lot of his pain go away for a while.

That sounded like a really good idea but at the same time he couldn’t just leave it. His innate curiosity was buzzing away at the problem, trying to work out what had happened. The last thing he clearly remembered was cooking a meal from scratch. He had wanted to do that because... because he had planned to try and escape.

Memories hit him with the force of a truck, his eyes snapping back open. A second later he was bolt upright, completely ignoring the pain as the events of the previous night slotted into place with a sickening thud.

The front door unlocked. Escaping. Running. Walking. Meeting that demon, Logic. Feeling not himself. Virgil showing up and chasing Logic away. Kissing Virgil. Coming back here.

Kissing Virgil.

As if in a daze, Roman lifted a hand to his lips, absently tracing them as he remembered kissing Virgil. More than that, he remembered being the one to want to do it, taking the lead and pretty much begging Virgil to keep kissing him. He remembered how desperate he had been, practically throwing himself at the shorter demon and offering himself up to him. In that moment, Virgil could have done anything to him and Roman would have accepted it, wanted it. He could have kept kissing and kissing, drawn him into his bedroom and had his way with him, the bile rising in Roman’s throat at the mere thought of it.

Except... except Virgil hadn’t done that, had he?

He had pulled away from the kisses, he had brought Roman back hom- here, and had told him they would kiss later... if Roman still wanted. Surely Virgil had known that he wouldn’t want to kiss him in the morning. Looking back, he had even seemed shocked at Roman’s actions, as though he wasn’t the one who had messed with his mind.

Roman couldn’t help the flush of embarrassment at that. It was bad enough that he had made an absolute fool of himself by throwing himself at the demon without any regard. It was even worse that he had done that only to then be rejected by Virgil. Spurned. It was just typical that the demon that had claimed his soul didn’t actually seem to want him, Roman for the first time thinking that in more than just whatever the contract implied.

Then again, that kiss hadn’t been one from someone who wasn’t interested.

Roman didn’t know what to make of that thought. He could remember the kisses as clear as day and whatever had happened to him, it hadn’t affected his memory. He remembered not only kissing, but how, at first at least, Virgil had kissed back. Roman could recall his own sparkling delight at that, a heated pleasure that rushed through him at the thought that Virgil wanted to kiss him, along with the desire to push things further, faster. Which wasn’t like him, and it all could have ended very badly indeed.

Yet Virgil hadn’t taken advantage of him at all. Or, so far as he could tell, done anything that would make Roman feel used or dirty. He was painfully aware of how much worse it could have been. Yet Virgil had been... kind. It was all very confusing. Yet another confusing thing to add to his list.

Outside his door sat an unopened bottle of water. Roman didn’t have it in him to be suspicious of that, accepting it for what it hopefully was; just water. He swallowed the whole thing in a matter of moments, ignoring the voice in his head that said you were supposed to sip water when you felt rough. It was cold, refreshing, as though it had come out of the fridge mere seconds before and yet Roman hadn’t heard a sound, any hint that Virgil was upstairs.

Almost mechanically, he went through the motions of getting ready. A shower, doing his hair, putting on new clothes and generally just trying to make himself look presentable. The bottle of water seemed to be doing wonders for him and although Roman still felt more than a little sick and hungover, he didn’t feel like the walking dead anymore so it was a huge improvement on earlier.

The only problem was now he was finished, he had no excuse not to go downstairs in search of his demonic roommate. It would be easier just to hide in his room for the rest of the day and put off the confrontation but Roman had never done the easy thing since coming here and he wasn’t about to start now. He needed to talk to Virgil, he needed to understand and he wasn’t going to gain anything shutting himself away in his room for another day.

Swallowing heavily, Roman made his way downstairs. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to find Virgil actually down there as well instead of out or hiding in his room.

The demon was perched on the end of the couch furthest from the door, hunched over himself, shoulders so high that for a moment Roman almost mistook them for wings. He was staring at the television in the corner as though there was the most interesting show in the world on it - except it was turned off, and all Virgil was really staring at was a blank dark screen, both of their reflections visible within. He hadn’t seemed to react at all to Roman’s present, yet he had no doubt that the demon knew he was there.

Almost as though he was giving Roman the chance to start the conversation and take just a fraction of control back.

Before today, Roman would have scoffed at himself for thinking such a thing, for bothering to give Virgil the benefit of any doubt and yet now he couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly what he was doing. If this whole thing was a trick to make Roman trust him then he was doing a damn good job at it and seemed more than willing to play the ridiculously long game. Roman wasn’t completely convinced that it wasn’t a con of course. For all he knew, Logic and Virgil had planned that together, but despite his mother’s warnings, despite everything Roman found that he almost wanted to trust Virgil.

At least Virgil had never lied to him. As far as he knew.

Movements were even slower now, forcing himself to move once more, to willingly come closer to Virgil until he was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view of the silent television. Still, the demon didn’t react, didn’t speak. If it wasn’t for the way his chest was rising and falling, Roman might have almost thought he was a statue or in some strange sleep.

“Hey...” Roman offered quietly

Virgil’s eyes flickered up to meet his own before looking away again, hunching himself even further into his hoodie, as though he was seeking to physically vanish within it.

“Hey,” he replied. Somehow, Virgil managed to look the more uncomfortable out of the two of them. How was that even possible? Not to mention, that was another odd thing. Virgil wasn’t making fun of him, wasn’t teasing or gloating about either the failed escape attempt or the way in which Roman had thrown himself at him. He still wasn’t acting as Roman expected, and that made him hover somewhere between relief and fury. It made no sense, and he hated it. Both Virgil’s actions and his own feelings.

“You want to sit?” Virgil asked at last, cocking his head towards the actual seats on the couch. Roman almost flung himself down on one, the demon shifting his whole body so he was turned towards him, feet on the cushion. He was wearing dark purple socks with tiny gold stars on them and suddenly, Roman didn’t feel so afraid of him anymore. It was hard to imagine someone evil wearing something like that. Not that that thought made his next question any easier to ask.

“What... um... what, was... that?” Roman stumbled over his words as he tried to find a way to describe the fact they had kissed without actually having to say that they had done that. Thankfully, Virgil seemed to understand what he was asking, the hooded male giving a deep, heavy sigh. For some reason, it didn’t annoy him as much as he would have accepted. The sigh didn’t seem directed at him so much as at Virgil himself, something tired and sad.

“That was Logic’s influence,” Virgil replied. Roman simply looked at him, silently asking for more information and he had sort of guessed it was Logic. It was good to know he was right - and good to know that it hadn’t been Virgil’s doing - but that didn’t actually explain what it was.

“He’s a demon of Gluttony,” Virgil added. That made even less sense, Roman’s forehead wrinkling a little in confusion as he frowned at him, trying to make sense of the two lines. Virgil said those words as if it should make perfect sense and yet it did nothing of the sort. No amount of focusing and frowning was going to make the words magically make sense, Roman shaking his head a moment later,

“That... what, I don’t get it. Gluttony? What, like you’re a demon of... what did you say? Fear?”

“That’s right. Sorry, I kinda forgot? That you don’t know how it works down here. I meant to tell you more but...” he trailed off, tactfully not mentioning the fight they had last time they had properly talked. At least Virgil wasn’t blaming him for that and Roman still didn’t think he was really in the wrong but he was willing to take part of the responsibility.

“Okay, so tell me now?”

“Right so. You have a demon right? But there are different types of demon, I guess like... like nationalities almost? It isn’t quite the same, you can have a demon of Fear but their parent be Desire or Envy for example. Logic is a demon of Gluttony and so he can affect hungers within you, but it's so much more than just your appetite when it comes to food. He can take the smallest, passing fancy and blow it up into an all consuming desire that overwhelms everything else within you.”

That... made sense. Some kind of sense at least. Finally, Roman was getting some answers, some understanding as to how this place worked. It helped, gave him a solid ground to work on, although it didn’t begin to explain some of the things that he wanted to know. Still, it was better than nothing. Virgil was an odd contradiction, his words seemed almost relaxed, tone casual but his body language was still screaming defensiveness. Either way, he seemed willing to answer Roman’s questions and he didn’t want to lose this momentum.

“Then why is he called Logic if he’s a hunger or whatever demon? Why not, I dunno, appetite or something?”

“Because, like I just said, hunger can be more than just food. In Logic’s case, he has a hunger for knowledge, and because of that, he selected something that reflects what he wants out of life. You don’t pick what type of demon you are, that’s just... what you are. Like being a human or whatever. But you do pick your title within that, and you base that name on what you want and how you go about getting it. Like Logic who wants as much information as he can possibly get. Only, because he’s a gluttony demon his own appetites will never be sated. Or Antagonist, demon of Pride. He is a handful.”

Okay. Okay. That was a lot of information, but he could work with that. It did make a sort of sense, it followed a path that Roman could understand at least. He lifted a finger to his mouth, unconsciously tapping at his bottom lip as he thought.

“And you’re... Anxiety?” Roman asked slowly, connecting what little he already knew to this vast wealth of new knowledge. Why would anyone want anxiety out of life?

“I should have said most pick a name they want, an aspect of their type they represent,” Virgil told him, voice shifting into something gruffer, harsher. He looked away at last - at least, Roman assumed he looked away, head tilting to stare towards the window instead of him. It was hard to be sure when he had that fringe arranged so artfully over those striking purple eyes.

Those pretty purple eyes... he blinked a couple of times, the stray thought dancing across his mind almost without his being aware of it. A last lingering thought from Logic no doubt, Roman firmly pushing the thought down and away from this moment as best he could. Virgil was talking again once more.

“I am Anxiety yeah. Doesn’t mean I want that.”

Roman opened his mouth to complain, to point out how annoying that was, that he would explain how something worked here at last, only to then turn around and prove himself the opposite to the rule. What was the point in that? A second later however, he closed his mouth once more, the words unsaid. There had been something about the way Virgil had said that last line, a hint of a secret pain that surprised Roman. Virgil had appeared almost upset at being Anxiety. Roman wanted to know why of course but this hardly seemed the time. They had managed to form some kind of brief truce and he was loath to ruin it by pushing for answers for something that wasn’t vital for him to know, no matter how badly he wanted to get at the truth.

Idly, he found himself wondering if there were curiosity demons. He would have to be careful if there was.

“Look... Roman... you can’t try and run away again, I might not get to you in time and there are worse out there than Logic... I don’t want to use the scroll on you...” Virgil was picking his words with great care, as if he was making his way through a field of landmines, each one on a hair trigger. Roman stared at him, eyes narrowed.

He could almost see the ‘but’ in the air around them, the implication that Virgil might not like it, but he would still do it if he had to. He would appear sorry about it, he might even say the words, but Roman didn’t doubt that he would pull out that contract and tie him even tighter to it unless Roman behaved. But would Virgil even believe him if he said he wasn’t going to try again?

Would he try again?

Honestly, Roman wasn’t sure. He certainly wasn’t eager to run into Logic again or any of the other demons that were apparently lurking around just waiting for a human to come along. Roman still didn’t really know what they did to them. He knew it involved pain, but that was such a vague, weird thing and not any help at all. Did they just enjoy it? Get off on the sight of suffering? Or was there something deeper at play? As much as Roman wanted to find out, he drew the line at finding out via a practical demonstration.

At the same time though, he couldn’t just give up and accept the cage Virgil was offering him. If he didn’t try and escape he would be stuck here, for the rest of his life it seemed.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer by the sound of something tapping against the window. In a flash, faster than he could see, Virgil had moved from his spot on the arm of the coach to press himself again the pane of glass. Hand lifted, fingers spread wide as he stared at the source of the noise. A raven sat perched on the outside. It stared back at him, making no attempt to either fly away or tap again.

For what felt like the longest time, nobody moved. The air felt thick around him, a tension that Roman didn’t understand. It was obviously more than a bird, but knowing what it wasn’t didn’t really help him. All he could be sure of, was that once again, he was missing something important.

Then finally, Virgil slumped, shoulders dropping along with his hand. He shifted a little, pushing the window open and allowing the bird to glide gracefully inside.

It made a leisurely circuit of the room, and Roman couldn’t shake the distinct impression that the bird was examining everything carefully. Himself included. He felt almost small under the black beady eyed gaze of the creature, as though it had spent time examining him only to find him unworthy.

With a soft caw like sound, the bird swooped, landing gracefully upon Virgil’s shoulder. It’s sharp beak was turned towards his neck, and although it didn’t make any further sounds, Virgil jumped a little. His eyes were wide as he stared at the creature, some sort of silent conversation going on between them.

Virgil went pale.

Roman had already thought he was as pale as it was possible for someone to be without being dead, but it seemed as though that was yet another thing he was wrong about. Now he looked physically ill, one second away from fainting or worse. Whatever was happening, the demon clearly didn’t like it and if it was something Virgil didn’t like, he could only imagine how much he was going to hate it.

The raven spread its wings out, ruffling them in the air before it took flight once more, gliding out of the window and out of Roman’s life with the same bizarre efficiency that it had used to enter it. Virgil hadn’t moved from his spot, frozen in place and staring at a shoulder that no longer held a bird.

“Oh... we’re in trouble..” The words were whispered more than anything else, but Roman heard them all the same. All the casual confidence had gone from Virgil’s voice and he no longer made even a token effort to attempt that he wasn’t affected by whatever the bird had done. Roman could feel his own heart rate picking up as a result, a mix of nervous anticipation and fear.

“Trouble? Virgil, what is going on?” Roman didn’t really want to know the answer, if only because he was sure he wouldn’t like it. Still, he needed to know, if only to try and prepare himself. Roman didn’t want another surprise dropped on in the manner of learning demons were real and he belonged to one.

Virgil swallowed a couple of times, mouth opening and closing in a jerky, almost broken fashion. He reminded Roman of a puppet whose strings were not quite attached correctly and so didn’t behave as it should.

With a great effort, Virgil forced the words out from his lips, still frozen in place, almost stunned by his own words.

“My father is coming to visit.”

Chapter Text

Roman hadn’t been able to get much more information out of Virgil after that. The demon had all but run from the house, promising he would be back soon but until then Roman should try and drink some more and recover his strength. He had seemed panicked, distracted, his thoughts on the approaching visit rather than anything else.

It didn’t escape Roman’s notice however, that Virgil still took an extra second to make sure the door was locked behind him as he left.

With nothing else to really do, Roman had taken his advice. Another full bottle snagged from the fridge had gone the same way as the first, a third one held loosely between his fingers as he wandered back upstairs. Just when he got one set of questions answered, a whole new lot appeared. Whoever Virgil’s father was, the mere thought of him visiting had sent his captor into a mad panic. Did that mean Roman should worry too? Or would the old maxim hold true; the enemy of my enemy is my friend?

Not that he really thought of Virgil as an enemy anymore.

It was just all so confusing. Roman needed more answers, but he knew he wasn’t going to get those until Virgil actually came back. So he had to entertain himself till then, with no idea of how long it could be. Until yesterday, Roman spent most of his time working on escape plans, searching the house and memorising which step creaked when he put weight on it, which doors were the quietest and the best routes to get from one point to another within the house. He didn’t want to do any of that today.

Instead, Roman pulled his suitcases up from the side of the bed and deposited them on top, opening the lids to start to sort his belongings out. He had never taken more than clothes or a book out at a time, some part of him fearing that if he did that, it would be as good as accepting that he was stuck here for the foreseeable future.

He still worried about that, but there had been something in the way Virgil had said his father was coming, a note of panic that had been too intense to be faked. It had made Roman wonder a lot about the relationship between the two demons as well as what the father might think about a human soul living in the same house in comfort. Roman didn’t look as if he had been tortured and the dad might not like that. This way, he could look broken, tamed and that would hopefully be enough.

The father might be annoyed that Roman hadn’t unpacked. Normally, that was something else he wouldn’t care about but right now keeping Virgil sort of on his side seemed like the wisest course of action. At least with Virgil, he hadn’t tried to hurt him and he was quite literally, better the devil you know. Roman didn’t want to be the cause of friction between the two, not if Virgil was going to continue giving him useful information.

Better to unpack and make it appear as though he was resigned and broken to the idea of belonging here. Maybe he would be lucky and Virgil would fall for it too, in which case he would lower his guard. It was a brilliant plan honestly, and Roman wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it before.

Roman wasn’t sure how much time had passed while he unpacked and found new homes for all his stuff, putting up his pictures, slotting his books into their own sort of order on the bookcase. The room was starting to look as though it was actually lived in, instead of some barren, hotel room by the time he heard the front door open once more.

Eyes were fixed blankly on the wardrobe, half his clothes neatly put away, the rest still in untidy piles beside his suitcase. Suddenly, he couldn’t help but worry that he had made a mistake by unpacking. What if this whole thing - Virgil being nice to him, his father’s planned visit, even Logic - had all been part of a trick to make Roman give in and now he was falling for it?

His thoughts twisted and turned in on themselves, tormenting him. So much so that Roman didn’t hear the telltale creak of stairs as weight was put upon it. He didn’t hear anything until a soft but deliberate cough came to his ears, forcing Roman to lift his gaze from the clothing.

“Hey...” Virgil stood hovering in the doorway to the room, a distinctly uncomfortable look on his face. It was hard to believe that the emo in front of him was a demon at all, let alone one that could possibly be playing a long con on Roman for his own twisted reasons. Then again, you never suspected the quiet ones. That was part of their strength and cunning. Roman found that he didn’t want to believe the worst of Virgil anymore.

Maybe that was the kiss, maybe it was the way the short demon had seemed to slot so perfectly against him, how he had appeared willing to protect Roman without expecting anything in return. Maybe it was the way Roman had known that Virgil wanted to carry on kissing him, but had resisted that urge. Roman wasn’t confident to the point of arrogance, but he knew the signs to tell if someone was interested in him and Virgil had acted very interested. You couldn’t fake that. Maybe it would all turn out to be a lie, but for the first time Roman was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, just to see what would happen. Even if it turned out to be a terrible mistake on his part.

Carefully, Roman examined Virgil. He seemed slightly calmer than before if nothing else and Roman wanted to ask where he had gone and what had happened to make him relax. It wasn’t what they needed to talk about however and he had to ask first.

“I guess we need to talk about your father?”

“Yeah...” Virgil drew the word out as he spoke, very reluctant and still not moving closer.

“You want to come in?” Roman offered, scarcely able to believe his own words. Virgil clearly wasn’t going to enter without his permission though. It was such a small yet important thing, for the demon to show time and time again that he was going to respect Roman’s boundaries, let him have his own space. No matter how annoyed Virgil had gotten with him over this last week, the only time he had come into this room was the very first night when he had brought an unconscious Roman to the bed.

That shouldn’t be where the bar was. And yet there it sat, so low even a literal demon could get over it.

Gingerly, Virgil shuffled inside, glancing around a little as he did. If Virgil had any thoughts about how Roman had finally decided to decorate and unpack, he thankfully kept them to himself, choosing instead to simply perch on the very edge of the bed, lightly swinging his right leg backwards and forwards. Roman could recognise a restless motion when he saw one. He bit down on the inside of his lip to keep himself from commenting on it and no matter how annoying he instantly found it, Virgil probably barely even realised he was doing it.

“So, your dad?” Roman reminded as the silence stretched on between them. His own nerves were starting to rise, a twisting horrible mess of worry and anxiety that was just getting worse with every passing moment. He had been blessed with a very good imagination, which quite often helped him get through day to day life but right now it was more a curse than anything else. It was running away from him, suggesting all sorts of reasons as to why Virgil had reacted the way he had on the subject of his dad coming to visit, each one worse than the last. Guilty, Virgil gave a start and shifted his body a fraction, tilting it more towards Roman.

“So, my dad,” he repeated back, sighing softly as he did. “Look when... I mean. I told you before that I wasn’t the demon that made the deal for your soul, and that was true. It was my dad who convinced your parents to take the deal, he signed the contract with them.”

“Your dad owns my soul?” Roman wasn’t really sure what to make of that, but Virgil was shaking his head before he could properly consider the idea.

“No, he gave me your contract. You were...” Virgil trailed off, giving a soft cough and looking away from Roman to stare at the half open wardrobe. He suddenly looked even more awkward and unsure than ever before. Considering how this conversation had started, that was a huge achievement.

“You were kind of a birthday present.”

Roman blinked. He stared at Virgil and blinked again, but those words remained hovering in his mind, taunting him. A... birthday present? He was a person, a living, breathing human being who had hopes and dreams and a whole life in front of him. And some demon had given him to Virgil like you might a gift voucher or piece of jewellery?

“Well, at least your dad has good taste,” Roman said faintly, wondering if the right response was to laugh or to scream. It was absurd. His whole life had turned stupid and impossible and he was someone’s birthday present? Virgil hunched up further, looking small and sad. It was harder and harder to see the demon’s reactions as anything other than genuine. He seemed truly in pain, worried by Roman’s reaction. Nowhere had he said he had wanted Roman for a present - no, Virgil had made it clear on several occasions that he didn’t like the situation either, claims that Roman had treated with the contempt he had felt they deserved. Now, he was less sure.

“I... I’m not a very good son you see,” Virgil confessed, Roman making a soft noise of encouragement without paying much attention to what he was actually saying. He was still reeling from the revelation that he had been nothing more than a glorified present and what was wrong with getting your kid a puppy or something! Roman breathed in through his nose and very carefully ignored the thought that many of his friends had affectionarly compared him to a sunny, happy dog in the past.

“My dad gave you to me but he retained the right of final refusal. Which basically means, if I let you go and destroy your contract, you aren’t actually free. You’d just revert back to belonging to my dad and then he decides what to do with you and trust me, he would never let you go. And you don’t want to belong to him.”

Virgil was still talking, Roman blinking and refocusing on the moment. Almost monologuing now and Roman couldn’t recall ever hearing so much from the demon in one go before. He was almost spilling out all the secrets, opening up after a whole week of barely saying a whole sentence at a time to Roman. Who was Virgil trying to convince with those words? Roman... or himself? There was an air of desperation to them, a hint of fear in the air. It didn’t make any sense.

“Why would he do that?”

“Hades, I don’t know. Any number of reasons? I’m not a good son like I said. Not a good... not a good demon. He’s a control freak, he couldn’t bear to give up a single soul, not even to his only son? Or maybe he was worried I would be a rebellious teen and give you back just to spite him, which, not gonna lie, I had considered. Or he thinks I’m soft, he probably knew I wouldn’t do what he expected me to do with you, but this way I can’t let you go.” Virgil’s hands were rising and falling as he spoke, frantic gestures which betrayed the desperation the demon was apparently still feeling.

That... made a weird sort of sense actually. Roman had been very lucky in his parents - the whole selling their firstborn to a demon issue notwithstanding and how had he reached the point where he could think of it so casually - but he had known plenty of friends who hadn't. Ones who had overly controlling parents, who insisted on playing a dominant role in their child’s life. They would be monitored, questioned, spied upon. There had even been one father that had installed spy software on his daughters phone, who had managed to get quite the wrong impression about the relationship Roman and his daughter had. The encounter with the father had been... fraught to say the least.

Those were the parents that had found themselves distrusted, who had children who acted out. Ones that sometimes went as far as to cut them out. If that was what it could be like for human children, how much worse could it be for a demon child?

And why was he feeling sympathy towards Virgil? Why did he suddenly care? Just because Virgil had been nice when he didn’t need to be, because he had looked after him. Saved him. Refused to take advantage of him. Okay, it was mostly the last one.

This got more confusing all the time.

“And there is something else... you know how I said demon’s don’t lie?” Virgil asked softly, thankfully oblivious to the rant that was going on inside of Roman’s head.

“Yeah...” Roman said slowly, and the ‘but’ was almost deafening in its silence around them. Virgil seemed to hear it too, the dark haired demon giving a small, barely there nod as though to acknowledge it.

“My dad... my dad lies. I mean, people here literally know him as Deceit. He’s a demon of Envy and he doesn’t always lie, but he is the exception to the rule of demons and truth. He’ll try and twist you up, you have to always be on your guard when he speaks because more than any other demon, he wants to play. That’s how he sees it. Everything is all some giant game to him and he has to win. No matter the cost.”

Virgil’s tone had turned increasingly bitter as he spoke, as well as colder. The ice in the last four words made Roman want to shiver a little, as well as find out exactly what Virgil’s dad could have done to make him feel like that. Somehow, he felt it was more than just one situation. More than giving him a human he had never wanted. Virgil lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“I wish R-Sleep was here.” The words were muttered so quietly that for a moment Roman wasn’t sure if he had actually heard him correctly. They didn’t make a lot of sense.

“R-Sleep?” Roman was getting really tired of parroting words back or asking questions but at the same time he had no idea how long this sudden surge of openness would last. He needed to get as much information as he could. Preferably before Virgil remembered how Roman had tried to run away.

They hadn’t talked about his grand escape attempt yet - there hadn’t been a good moment to do so, attention taken up first by the aftermath of the kiss and then the drama that was Virgil’s dad. Roman doubted he would get away with it for good. Sooner or later, Virgil was going to remember and get angry. It wasn’t a fight Roman was looking forward too because despite everything he couldn’t lie and say he regretted it. He had needed to try and he would need to try again. It wasn’t in his nature to be a docile little sheep.

“Just Sleep,” Virgil explained and that sounded more like a demon title. “He’s my friend. Best, only, forever friend, whatever you want to call it. He would know what to do but Dad really doesn’t approve of him so I can’t really ask him over as that will cause a fight and I can’t afford that right now. I don’t have to get on with my Dad, but I can’t afford to get into a full blown war with him. Not at the moment.”

“Yeah, let’s try to avoid war for the moment,” he agreed and as tempting as it was to encourage the two to fight in the hope he could sneak off during the chaos, Roman wasn’t that naive anymore. For better or worse, he needed Virgil. For now at least.

“Oh, one more thing. A really important thing.”

“Seriously? What could be more important than all the other bombshells you’ve dropped on me Virgil?” Roman’s head was still spinning. The sheer list of things he had learnt was enough to make it twist, from being a birthday present, to the exception to the rule that was Virgil’s father, to the fact that it seemed as though the other demon could take him back. And now, after meeting Logic, Roman found he believed Virgil when he said he was the best of a bad bunch. That didn’t mean he wanted to stay here any more than he had before, but he could see the deep blue sea and the devil he was stuck between.

As he had thought before, better the devil you know.

“That,” Virgil told him simply. Roman lifted an eyebrow in silent questioning, and he wasn’t going to ask yet another verbal question. Not after being led around by the nose for so long already. If Virgil wanted him to do - or not do - something and it was that important, then he was going to have to come out and actually say it, rather than drop all sorts of cryptic comments. Virgil sighed softly. It wasn’t put upon or angry, it seemed more tired than anything, the other male lifting a hand to wipe it across his face. He looked tired as well, exhausted by everything.

For the first time, Roman actually let himself think how hard it had to be for Virgil to be in this position. If he was telling the truth and he didn’t actually want a human of course. But if he was, then he was stuck with someone he didn’t want as a roommate, someone he wouldn’t kick out because of the terrible fate that would then happen to him. He was stuck with Roman. No, not only that, he was actively protecting Roman, he had gone after him when it would have been easy enough to take the escape as an excuse to not have to deal with him.

“My name. You can’t... please don’t use my name in front of my dad. Call me Anxiety, demon, thing, any insult you want but you can’t use my actual name. Please.”

“Okay...” Roman said slowly, eyebrows pulled into a puzzled frown. “But why?”

For a long moment, he was convinced that Virgil wasn’t going to answer. The demon had turned his head, looking at the door instead of him and Roman could almost sense the conflict in him, the desire to explain and the desire to just run away from his problems and avoid the conversation completely. Thankfully, explaining won out, Virgil’s head rolling back on his neck as he tilted it upwards, attention now fixed on the ceiling.

“Because... because I’m sorry Roman but my dad doesn’t see humans as people. You’re... food. Entertainment. A source of power and maybe comfort sure but you’re not people to him. At best, he would consider you a glorified pet, it would amuse him that I had given you a room and stuff. At worst, he is in one of his tempers and he’ll get furious you’re not a shriveled up husk already or in a cage.”

Well. That was a pleasant image. A dried out husk was not what Roman wanted from his life, and maybe it was a good thing that Virgil wasn’t a normal demon. He didn’t like the idea of a cage either. Roman carefully filed away those thoughts for another day. He could freak out about that later, could worry about what his life would be like if Virgil ever got bored of him. Or, if this turned out to be a trick after all and he got bored of pretending.

“That still doesn’t explain why I can’t use your name,” Roman pointed out and he felt just as confused as before. He had already guessed that. It had been one of the few things that he had worked out himself, that Virgil’s dad clearly didn’t share his son’s attitude to humans.

“It’s like I said. Names are power. Never give your name to a demon and in the same token, a demon will almost never give their true name to you. They will share their names with friends, other demons if they so wish but not to a human. Certainly not casually.” Virgil gave a small shrug as he spoke, simply explaining the facts of life.

What a horrible way to live. Not knowing the real name of people around you unless they trusted you enough to give it. And if that was the norm then they probably only rarely trusted. There had to be a reason why they were so hesitant and Roman could picture it perfectly; demon turning against demon. Betrayal the norm and having to constantly be on your guard. It sounded exhausting, terrible and the power that came with it did not seem like a fair trade.

There was, however, one problem with what Virgil had just said. If names were truly as important as he was now saying, then why would he have told Roman his own name? Roman hadn’t even asked for it, he certainly hadn’t cared to learn it. And surely, Virgil didn’t trust him. If he did, he wouldn’t lock the door every time he went out.

Then again, considering what happened last time he had left the door unlocked, he was probably right not to trust Roman. Even now, he couldn't honestly say he wouldn't try and escape again because he didn't know. If an exit magically appeared in front of him, he would have to try and take it.

“You did.”

“I did,” Virgil agreed. “It didn’t seem... right, me having all the power. The least I could do was give you a piece of myself back but dad doesn't know I did that so please... don’t use it.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Roman had already agreed to it, but it was clear that Virgil needed the extra encouragement. And this, at least, was an easy thing to promise. He wasn't going to bite the hand that feeds him. Not until he had gotten the full measure of this Deceit anyway. Which wasn't an encouraging name but neither was Anxiety honestly. It seemed as though sharing names with humans was something of a taboo among demons. Almost against his will, Roman felt a little bit of pride, that Virgil would trust him enough. That he offered his name up to him and tried to give him a little something back.

"Dad will already know your name obviously but he's not going to tell anyone. He wouldn't do anything that gave another demon power." Virgil carried on talking, Roman absently nodding his head. Virgil had done a lot for him. And okay, he still had kidnapped him, it was still thanks to Virgil that Roman was trapped but he believed it could be a lot worse.

More importantly, he believed that right now, Virgil’s dad was worse. He had an ally of sorts as it stood and he wasn’t willing to lose that.

Teeth caught at his bottom lip, Roman frowning thoughtfully as he considered the problem carefully. This was like acting right? He had to play the part, he had to go along with the stage directions until they were safe. Virgil - no Anxiety, he should start using that name in his head for now, get himself used to it again - Anxiety had to play a role as well. It stood to reason that Deceit would test them. He wouldn’t just trust everything was going according to whatever plan he had because again, it was a matter of trust. Something demons didn’t have.

And if Roman had been a demon, who wanted to test someone, he had a couple of ideas of how to go about it. The most obvious one involving the contract that had to be hidden somewhere in this house. And that meant - that meant; well, that meant that Roman needed to be brave for what he was about to say.

"Listen, I know you don't need my permission or anything, it isn't like I could stop you but..." Roman trailed off, his courage suddenly deserting him. What had he been thinking? It was a ridiculous idea, and as he had started to say Vi-Anxiety could just use the scroll regardless. He certainly didn’t need Roman to suggest it. And if Roman did suggest it, what did that mean for his long term prospects? Was he giving up another piece of himself? Then again, if it was just for the play they were putting on... he wanted it to go well. It was all confusing, doubts and worries pulling at each other in his mind.

He looked down at his hands. Roman’s fingers were curled against each other, creating tight little fists that betrayed how uncomfortable he actually was. This was a beyond stupid idea, this was him offering himself up to the slaughter and willingly signing his life away. He lifted his head again, intent on telling the other to forget it, only to find that Anxiety had shifted a little closer while he was distracted. He was staring at Roman with those unnatural purple eyes, a surprisingly large amount of warmth and concern shining in them. From what little Roman could actually see of them of course, the demon’s eyes somewhat hidden by his bangs.

Despite himself, Roman couldn't help but remember their kiss. The feel of Anxiety’s soft lips against his own, the way the shorter demon had seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms. The thoughts of how right this had been and how the Roman of that moment would have quite happily spent the rest of his life worshipping Anxiety as he desired. And deserved. It had been a slave's thoughts, nothing more. It wasn’t the sort of person Roman was.

No matter how nice the kiss had been. Anxiety had tasted of cherries, just a little hint of tartness to go with the sweet. That didn’t matter. Nothing of that sort mattered because it was never going to happen again.

“Sorry,” Anxiety said suddenly, shaking Roman from his thoughts and distracting him momentarily from what he had planned to say.

“Sorry about... what?” Roman asked and the list of potential topics was just so large that he couldn’t even begin to guess which one Anxiety had picked. They had each made nothing but mistakes since they had first met each other although Roman was still convinced that he was more sinned against than sinning. Anxiety huffed, a lock of hair flying off his face at the motion, only to instantly drop back down and obscure his gaze somewhat.

“You’re afraid. That’s... my fault. Demon of Fear you know. I don’t even mean to do it most of the time but I’m called Anxiety for a reason.”

He didn’t exactly sound thrilled by that. It had to be a rubbish demonic power if you weren’t into that sort of thing, being able to create and influence fear. It seemed more limiting as well and sure, there was no end of what you could make people afraid of but it didn’t seem to be like Logic. He couldn't twist the meaning of his type and anyway, from what Anxiety had said of Logic, he was more than just a demon of Gluttony. He felt the hunger himself, he was consumed in some ways by his own trait, caught up in the effect of it. Did that mean that Anxiety was constantly afraid? He certainly showed all the signs of being nervous and anxious enough at times. The emo was a walking stereotype of anxiety and dark edginess.

It felt... weird, using that title in his head. It dehumanised him, which, Roman knew, was probably the right thing to do. Anxiety wasn't human and he shouldn't forget that.

“All demons can affect humans, various strengths depending on how hard they are trying and how susceptible the person is to that emotion. You’re strong, you can barely feel my influence. But you can still feel it. You can still fear, and when it's heightened... that’s because of me.”

As always, Roman had to weigh the words against the fear that he was being manipulated in some way. Sometimes, he almost hated the fact that he was starting to believe Anxiety’s side of things more and more. It made him want to trust him, and he couldn’t help but fear this was the first step of Stockholm Syndrome. How would he know the difference? How could he tell if he honestly was starting to trust him because the demon was proving himself worthy of that or if his mind was being twisted against his will?

So many questions continue to churn in his mind, with so few answers. Anxiety did seem honest in his concern and guilt though, and Roman had to trust his own gut feelings. If he couldn’t trust himself, then he truly would be lost.

“It’s... well I can’t very well say it's okay, now can I. That would be a lie. But if you say you honestly don’t mean it then I. Well, I believe you. And that makes it as okay as it is possible to get. If you can’t help yourself, then you can’t help yourself. I mean, I can’t help being a gorgeous human being with an amazing voice.”

He was aiming for a light tone, to bring the conversation to a more enjoyable topic because Roman didn’t know how much more drama he could take this second. So why had he called himself gorgeous? It was too late to take the words back though, Roman refused to backtrack. He lifted his chin a little instead, sticking it out and almost daring Anxiety to do his worse.

Anxiety snorted lightly, hand lifting to his mouth to cover the expression, as though a laugh was something shameful. His eyes were wrinkled around the edges and Roman found himself smiling back, reassured that the demon wasn’t actually going to make fun of him for his worse. Or... something else. What that something else was, Roman wasn’t really sure. He would have to think about it later, when the threat of the dad wasn’t hanging over him. There had to be some reason why he said what he had, but Anxiety was speaking again, finally pulling his hand away from his mouth.

“Anyway, you were going to say something?”

“Oh. Oh yeah. I was going to say... if you need to use that scroll. Or whatever. If you have to prove a point to your dad, then I’m telling you now I will understand. So long as you only do it during his visit. I mean, we have to sell it, don't we?”

Anxiety stared at him, mouth dropping open. He made no attempt to disguise his shock, all traces of humour dropping away. Some part of Roman couldn’t help but feel pleased by that. It was... encouraging, to know that he could still surprise the demon, that not everything was decided by the other.

“Thank... thank you. I swear, if I do, it won’t be anything cruel. Or anything you would hate,” he promised, and again, Roman found himself believing it. What else could he do? Roman just hoped that this wouldn’t come back to haunt him later.

“So what happens next?”

“We wait for the blow to land.”

--

The blow - as Anxiety called it - was not long in coming.

Only a few hours had passed since the conversation. There had been a nervous tension in the air around them as they went through the motions, trying to act as normally as they could. There was a stiffness to it however, an unnatural undercurrent in every action. Anxiety didn’t want to leave the house. He sat in the living room on his phone or picking at his nails, his gaze returning again and again towards the front door, intently listening for any sign that there was someone coming. He seemed to be guarding the downstairs, worried perhaps that Roman would try and escape again. Or worried that his dad might be able to sneak in if he went to his bedroom.

Which left Roman hiding in his room. He couldn’t stay there all day however, not with his stomach started to rumble, pointing out that it had been hours since he had eaten. Reluctantly, Roman made his way downstairs and towards the kitchen. Anxiety’s eyes tracked him across the room, following his progress before he returned to trying to look interested in his phone. All Roman had to do was keep going but he found himself pausing at the entrance to the kitchen. For a couple of seconds he debated with himself before sighing and turning back towards the demon.

“Do you... um... look, I’m gonna cook. You want some too?” Roman asked. Anxiety blinked a couple of times, gaze distant before he nodded silently. Well. Roman wasn’t sure what response he had wanted, but at least he had gotten something. And making food for two would hopefully distract him.

He had only gotten as far as getting the ingredients out before there was a knock at the door. Instantly, the false calm of the moment was shattered. Anxiety was up and over the back of the couch in a matter of seconds, Roman just able to see the very back of his black checked hoodie as he hurried down the hallway.

He closed his eyes for a moment, silently counting backwards from ten in his head. A silly habit, but one his first drama teacher had taught him. It helped him calm down, focus himself because this was it. Time to put on the performance of a life. His life.

Show time.

Roman hovered near the kitchen door, straining to hear anything. There was the faint sound of the door being unlocked and opened, the instinctive murmur of voices gradually growing louder as the two demons walked back along the hallway towards the rooms.

"-o where is your boyfriend?"

That had to be the dad. And wait, what? Boyfriend? He had expected some comment about how Roman had tried to run away or at the very least some sneering comment about humanity in general. Anxiety had been very clear on how little his dad would think of Roman so why was he calling him his boyfriend and for all the world acting as though that could be a good thing? Had Anxiety been lying to him all this time? Roman was surprised to find his heart hurting a little at the thought that he might have been fooled.

"Dad! He isn't my boyfriend!" Anxiety's voice had changed. It really sounded like a teenager now, moody, almost whiny. It would have made him smile if he wasn’t so worried. Out of sight, the father laughed. It was a smooth sound, slick. The kind of laugh that would wrap itself around you as if warm and friendly, and then, before you even knew it, it was strangling you.

"Well not with that attitude he's not! Now come on Anxiety, lead the way. It isn't time I actually met the soul I gave you or anything."

Roman hastily backed up, all the way back to the various vegetables he had been planning to cut up, eyes fixed firmly on the kitchen door. Anxiety entered first. His shoulders were hunched up once more, that same blank look in his eyes as though he was only partly here. It was the man behind him that Roman was interested in though. He was taller than his son, taller than Roman too.

A wry somewhat mocking smile was stretched across pale lips. It was the sort of smile that hinted the wearer knew a lot more than he was currently letting on. It spoke of age and experience but it wasn’t that which captured Roman’s attention. Pale yellow scales were scattered across one side of his face, his eyes both yellow and gleaming at him. There was an intelligence to that gaze, a sharp, piercing look that made Roman suddenly nervous that this wasn’t going to work. They weren’t going to be able to fool him.

"Roman, this is my father. Deceit, demon of Envy,” Anxiety muttered, lifting a hand to limply wave in the direction of each other. Deceit nodded slowly, that smile still there.

"Pleased to meet you I’m sure."

He... didn't sound pleased to meet him. Roman wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to say or do in response. Say he was pleased back? Nod? Shake his hand? Anxiety hadn’t actually gone through the minute details of what they were meant to do and how Roman was supposed to behave in front of him. Cowed? Broken?

Deceit had turned away before Roman could decide on an appropriate response, pulling a small, round object from under the - was that a cape he was wearing - and tossing it towards Anxiety.

“Son, this is for you.”

Anxiety caught it automatically, fumbling a little as he tried to stop it from falling completely from his hands. He stared down at the object, Roman automatically trying to lean forward just a fraction in order to try and get a better look at whatever it was. It looked rather like a golf ball, albeit black with yellow markings in some strange script. Anxiety’s head snapped back up to look at the two of them, Roman’s eyes widening in shock at the expression there. Because there was life in those purple eyes again now. There was emotion. Fear. Panic. Shock. Hurt.

"Wait!" The cry was desperate, wild, torn from Anxiety’s lips as he took a step towards Deceit. In a flash of fire, Anxiety was just gone, the demon vanishing in a blink of an eye, his hand outstretched towards them both. Roman gaped at the spot where he had been standing only a moment before, nothing remaining except a few whiffs of smoke drifting up towards the ceiling.

"There. That's better isn't it?” Deceit’s words may have been phrased as a question, but they were clearly anything but, Roman swallowing heavily as he turned to properly face the demon. The demon, that, Roman was acutely aware, he was now completely alone with. Deceit smiled, expression of a predator as he walked - no, it was less walking and more as though he glided - towards Roman, hands lifting to steeple together.

“Now. What exactly are your intentions towards my son?"

Chapter Text

Roman couldn’t help but give a little laugh in response, noise slightly high pitched and almost hysterical. It wasn’t a healthy laugh but Roman couldn’t help it. The question had been just so absurd, made more so by how seriously Deceit had seemed to ask it. As though it was a worthy question that deserved a serious answer instead of an insane thing. What were his intentions? Roman hadn’t wanted any of this! He still didn’t want this? If he had the ability to get out of here, he would be gone without a second glance.

Wouldn’t he?

There was nothing here he wanted, nothing that could possibly sway his thinking. Nothing except Virgil and the fog of confusion that surrounded him whenever Roman allowed himself to ponder the problem that was his jailer slash ally. Roman certainly wouldn’t go so far as to say that he would want to stay for the demon, but he perhaps wanted to know more about him. He would perhaps hesitate, a fraction, for that knowledge.

Virgil’s dad was still staring patiently at him, and oh. Oh, he hadn’t been joking. He seriously expected an answer from Roman. The thought made him give another nervy laugh. Hand slapped over his mouth a moment later, trying to swallow down the sound but it was so hard when the whole thing was just so ridiculous.

“I’m sorry, what? Anxiety kidnapped me, surely you should be asking what his intentions are?” He finally asked, clamping down on the laugh after a couple further peals of it. Laughing in the face of a demon probably wasn’t a smart move but the reaction had just been too nervous, too instinctive to control. Roman’s hand remained hovering near his mouth, ready to try and stop himself from doing anything else.

Deceit rolled his eyes in an over exaggerated motion. As though Roman was stupid for giving the answer he had.

“It is pointless asking my son anything, he is hardly going to confide in me. Teenagers. They always see their parents as the enemy. He doesn’t realise how much I gave up for him. How I’m doing what needs to be done so that he can live the best life.”

Oh yes. Despite being some immortal being, Roman had forgotten that to all intents and purposes Virgil was a teenager much like he was - was he immortal? Did demons die of old age or illness? There were so many questions and so few answers. Well, not quite like him. Virgil might be a teenager but he was still impossibly old in demon years. Not to mention, Roman would never dream of owning someone in the way Virgil did.

Deceit turned away, drifting over to the edge of the room and the bookcase that stood there. Yellow gloved hands idly brushed over the spines of the various books there, pausing every couple of titles as if to read them, before moving on. Without those unnatural yellow eyes on him, Roman felt able to breathe more easily. As if some of the air had come rushing back into the room and his lungs were willing to work once more.

“But you... no, you are different. A weak little mortal, you won’t be able to tell me everything I want to know. You are in my son’s life in a way I cannot be. A way he won’t let me be. He thinks I meddle. That I am doing what I do for ridiculous reasons... when really, everything I do, I do out of love.” Deceit didn’t even look at Roman as he spoke, as if utterly fascinated by the books on offer.

“I can’t tell you anything about his life... he’s my kidnapper, I don’t know or want to know anything about him!” Roman protested and this whole thing was making his head spin. What was Deceit playing at? It reminded him of an over eager parent interrogating their son or daughter’s newest date, yet this was far more intense than any of those situations.

“Tut, tut, Roman. I smell a lie. Didn’t my son warn you? You shouldn’t lie to me...” Deceit’s tone was calm, even. There was no reason for Roman to feel nervous. Well, not beyond the nerves generated by the situation in general, which was enough to freeze his blood if he let it. Yet there was something about those words that made his heart start to hammer with even more frantic energy than before. As if it could hope to break through his rib cages and make a dash for freedom.

An unpleasant thought that at least distracted him from the situation at hand for a moment. Just long enough for him to blink and Deceit to move. The demon had been standing on the other side of the room in one moment, and was then right in front of him the next, so close that Roman could feel his breath against his chin.

With an ungentlemanly yelp, Roman tried to stumble backwards and away. A gloved hand shot out, moving impossibly fast. It gripped the front of his shirt, stopping his backpedaling motion and effectively pinning him in place. The grip wasn’t just the product of something fast, it was also freakishly strong and no amount of trying to pull away was going to get him out of this. Not short of ripping his shirt but it felt as if those gloved fingers were digging into his actual chest as well. The way his life was going, he wouldn’t be surprised if it left marks. Maybe even blood.

Ah yes. Demon. Not that Roman had forgotten that little fact. Yet somehow, caught up in the ridiculousness that was a scale faced man questioning him on his suitability as a boyfriend for an emo when neither of them wanted to date, he had let it slip a few notches in his mind. He was forcibly reminded of the fact now, almost lifted off his feet, shoes just lightly scraping against the carpet.

Roman stared into those unblinking eyes. The pressure was back, the air sucked out from his lungs. Despite that, he couldn’t seem to break the gaze. It transfixed him, so much so that although a part of him was aware that the grip was gradually loosening around his shirt, Roman still didn’t move. His legs didn’t seem to want to respond to any thought. Feet were gently lowered back properly onto the ground. Roman wobbled a little but remained still, even when Deceit let go completely, gloved hands lightly brushing against each other.

The fear was still pumping through his veins but it seemed disconnected from the rest of him. Roman knew he should be more concerned about all of this. That his body was trying to tell his mind something. And it was a thing that his mind already knew about and agreed with. But to actually do something about it felt as though it was an impossible task.

Deceit smiled and for a wild, fanciful moment, Roman almost expected a little forked tongue to peek out from between his lips.

“I already know, for example, that you kissed him. It wasn’t Logic’s influence getting you started of course, but then there is the start and then there is what came after. You wanted to kiss him. You enjoyed it. I bet a tiny part of you wanted more. Knowing my son, he wouldn’t have acted on it, but there is still time. You may as well let it happen. Hades knows, my son could do with some experience in that area. He needs to learn to take what he wants. You’re going to help him with that. And with other things... enjoy the moment Roman. Like you want to.”

“That’s not true,” Roman replied, and even to his own ears, the words sounded weak and feeble. Certainly not the strong denial that he had wanted to burst free. It only made Deceit laugh, cool silk that wanted to wrap itself around him and never let go.

“Oh my sweet little Roman, do you think all I can do is lie? I’m Deceit darling, it is so much more than that. I know all those little truths people try and hide. The ones they deny even to themselves. I can almost hear them, smell them. I certainly know when someone is doing their best to mask them. You can lie to Anxiety, you can lie to yourself even... but you can’t lie to me.”

With a sharp click of his fingers, the world rushed back to him, fear embracing him eagerly once more. Without Deceit’s grip holding him in place, Roman slumped to the ground, legs suddenly deciding that they didn’t want to be bothered with having to hold him upright. He felt completely drained, as though the last few moments had been more than just mentally taxing but physically as well. As though something else had happened here, something he couldn’t put his finger on.

The way his life seemed to be these days, Roman wouldn’t be surprised if that was indeed the case and something demonic had happened without anyone willing to explain it. He really wished Anxiety was here.

“Are you scared of my son?”

Roman opened his mouth to answer back before snapping it back shut again, thinking hard. Was he scared of Anxiety? Well... not really. Not anymore. In fact, Roman hadn’t been scared of Virgil for a long time now. Anxiety, perhaps. The demon that his father seemed to expect from him, that sounded like a demon that anyone would be scared of. Virgil though... Virgil and the idea of Anxiety seemed like two very different things these days.

What was the right answer here? What did Deceit want to hear from him and more importantly, was it better to give him what he wanted, or to try and defy him? Deceit would know if he was lying of course. That much, the older demon had made perfectly clear. Then again, this whole world hinged on the detail. Virgil had told him that over and over again. It was all about the unsaid, or the poorly chosen word. The intent or the thoughts behind a word could have as much power as the words themselves.

Whatever the right answer actually was, Roman knew he had to be very careful about what happened next. It felt... important, in a way he couldn’t quite name. This whole thing had to be thought out very carefully. What did Roman know for sure?

That he wasn’t scared of Virgil. But he was scared of this world. He was scared of the power that Virgil possessed and the possibilities that sizzled so tantalizing around them. He was scared of that scroll which contained his contract. He was scared of what he could be forced to do. He was scared that he might never get to go home and see the people he loved ever again.

All of those fears were thanks to Virgil. The purple haired demon might not mean to do any of that, but all that proved was that intent and reality didn’t always match up. Which had been the thrust of most of his arguments, to be fair. That didn’t exactly help him right now and Roman had to focus on what could.

Son. Virgil was Deceit’s son, but the idea of his son was perhaps not Virgil.

Slowly, Roman pushed himself back up to his feet, forcing his shaking limbs to support his weight once more. Every inch of him ached and he couldn’t shake the desire to just collapse back down again. Why was he even trying? Deceit had proven so effortlessly how much more powerful he was. How he could do whatever he wanted. Virgil hadn’t been able to protect him. His father had sent him who knew where without any hesitation.

Strangely, Roman had no doubt in his mind that Virgil had been forced out of the house. This wasn’t a trick, he could feel it all the way down to his soul. Maybe it was just the truce but Roman believed in Virgil. At least, he believed in his bad relationship with his dad and the way in which Virgil had wanted to protect Roman from exactly this situation.

He still wanted to give in to the whole thing. To let Deceit do whatever it was that he had really come here to do. Because there was no way that he had really come just to meet Roman. It couldn’t be that simple. It remained at the back of his mind, a pressing, niggling thought that he couldn’t shift.

What Roman could do, however, was ignore it. As best he could. He could grit his teeth and call on all that stubbornness he had learnt over the years to accept that the sensation was there and then just move on from it. Roman was no weakingly. He wasn’t going to crumble under the first sign of pressure. Virgil was going to come back as well. Not that he was relying on the other demon to save him - that was a dangerous mindset to slip into. Start thinking like that and before he really knew it, he would end up acting the damsel in distress.

No thank you. Virgil was coming back. And he was going to support Roman, but at the end of the day, the only person who was going to save him was him. Roman was the only person that Roman could truly rely on and he could never afford to forget that.

“I asked you a question, Roman T. Sanders. Are you scared of Anxiety, my son?” Deceit demanded, pressing forward once more. The little cape behind him fluttered as he moved, yellow accents catching Roman’s eye and giving him something to focus on, to hold on against the power in those words. It wasn’t as strong as when Virgil had used his full name but he could still feel the stirring of something within him, the answer rising in his throat even as he swallowed it back down.

Gloved hands caught at his shirt again, fabric bunched up between fingers. This time, Roman was more prepared. He refused to react like before. There was no way he was going to cower or back away from Deceit. The demon had enjoyed that far too much, which meant that Roman wanted to deny him it. The two conflicting answers continued to swirl around in his mind, like waves crashing endlessly on a stony beach. Time didn’t seem to errode them though, didn’t smooth them out so he could pick them up easily in his hand.

“No.” The word slipped out without warning. It was an answer of sorts. It was the truth as well. He might be scared of this world but Virgil was - not a friend, not exactly. Roman wasn’t really sure what the emo looking demon actually was. But he wasn’t something to be feared, not by him at least.

Deceit glared angrily at him. It seemed as though that had been the wrong thing to say. Roman tried his best to glare back, refusing to back down. This was probably going to get them into trouble, but then again, how much more trouble could he possibly be in?

A slow, satisfied smile curled onto Deceit’s lips, the expression making Roman’s stomach drop. Something far too smug and pleased for Roman’s liking and no, no, it had been the right thing? The right thing seemed very dangerous. Not to mention confusing.

“Good,” he stated simply, releasing Roman yet again and turning away. “Then you can seduce him so we can get this over with. Once it’s done, I can take back your contract, we could consider it payment in full,” Deceit offered, shifting tactics so rapidly that it made Roman’s head spin. One moment he was threatening him and the next... the next... surely. Surely, Deceit didn’t mean what Roman thought he meant?

“You... you want me to... seduce... you want me to actually make out with him?” Roman asked, stumbling a little over the words and it wasn’t any easier to say than to think. His cheeks felt hot, burning bright red at the mere idea and yes, they had kissed. Yes, he had maybe enjoyed it more than he should but that was a far cry from actually wanting something more.

“What I want, is for my son to embrace who he really is. As a demon of Fear, I know he cannot help but feel some of that himself, but he shouldn’t let it get in the way. He is destined for great things and I would be a poor father if I didn’t see to it that he achieved those lofty heights.”

The awful thing was, Roman believed what Deceit was saying. Or rather, he believed that Deceit believed in what he was saying. Deceit seemed to want Virgil to be the sort of son he thought the world down here expected. Roman had met more than one parent like that growing up. Father’s who had pushed their sons into doing sports despite his friends not being interested in it, simply because that was what was expected of them.

The sheer simplicity of the thought took his breath away. A misguided parent was still a misguided parent, species be damned. They really were more alike than anyone first thought weren’t they?

“But he... Anxiety doesn’t want that?” Roman asked. Too late, he saw the words for the trap they were. Scared of him or not, there was no way that Virgil should have felt able to trust him with that information. There was no way they were meant to be close enough to be able to have those kinds of conversations. Not if Virgil wanted to play the role in front of his dad at least.

“He doesn’t know what he wants. But I’m glad to know his mistakes. It will make things easier.” Deceit snapped, and there was no other way to take those words aside from the threat they were. Virgil wasn’t a mistake. Neither was he.

Roman just didn’t know how to say any of that without giving Deceit yet more information.

“I want him to know how good it feels, how good it tastes... you are a sweet little morsel. Your fear must be rich indeed. You could tempt him. Show him what he is supposed to be...”

“I don’t want to tempt him.”

“It isn’t such a bad deal, all things considered is it?” Deceit spoke as though Roman hadn’t, completely ignoring him. If this whole encounter was any indication of the way he normally treated his son, it was no wonder Virgil had rebelled in the way he had.

“Play along, make him feed from you, make him enjoy it, even kiss him if you want. And in return, you can go home once he learns that taking from mortals isn’t wrong. Your contract will be ripped up and you never have to worry about this place, ever again. No more demons, no more hellfire, no more any of this. You can trust in me.”

That... that sounded too easy. It was tempting. Of course it was. To be free of this place? To not be... owned? Roman wanted that. So badly.

It was just a shame that Roman didn’t believe a word Deceit was saying. Not when it came to his own freedom. Deceit wasn’t just going to hand over his contract, just like that. Not to mention, he was asking him to betray Virgil. Maybe he didn’t owe Virgil anything - he certainly didn’t owe him his loyalty - but that wasn’t about Virgil. It was about Roman. It was about if he was the sort of person to do something like that.

Betrayal was just not in his blood. It was a cold hearted, mean spirited thing, and against every moral code that Roman possessed. Regardless of what he might or might not feel towards Virgil - and Roman wasn’t prepared to properly examine that right now - should anything ever happen, it would not be because he played along. He would never ‘play along’ with that sort of thing. Which meant nothing would ever happen.

Deceit probably wasn’t going to like his answer. Lying was out of the question and not just because the demon would know if he tried. To pretend he would be willing to do that to virgil would be a betrayal of himself, of those values, just as much as if he had honestly intended to go through with it. Roman swallowed heavily as he tried to work out how he was going to say no and get away with it.

The window.

The thought came to him like a bolt of lightning, out of nowhere. It shot across his mind, a pure jolt of energy that no coffee could ever come close to. He needed... he needed to get to the window. He needed to open the window. The urge cut through everything else in his mind. It drowned out every other thought, every worry. It distracted him from the deal, from the world. All Roman could think about was how badly he needed to get that window open. Just get it open and then - and then -

His brain stuttered, caught on the thought. Unable to go forward or back. The window, the window, open the window. It looped in his mind, Roman’s gaze sliding away from the demon and to the window in question. It was on the other side of the room, on the wall furthest from where they were currently standing.

The scenery through it showed a view of some long forgotten jungle temple. Leaves and vines had grown over crumbling stone, winding their way through pillars and slowly reclaiming the area for nature. That wasn’t what was out there. There was nothing really out there but the empty expanse. A flat, hot plain with a single road snaking its way through the middle of it. He could almost see it, shimmering behind the illusion. A world of nothing that had mocked his attempt to escape. There was nothing out there that he wanted, nothing right now that could help him. No reason to go near it yet the thought remained. Inescapable, just like the landscape.

As if in a dream, Roman turned away from Deceit without another word. He shuffled towards the window, legs moving with a strength he had thought had been drained from him. All he cared about was getting to that window. There was the hazy, half formed thought that if he could just get the window open then - then - his brain stuttered a little, static drifting through his mind. Roman didn’t know what he hoped to achieve. Only that he hoped.

“What are you doing, little human? Where are you going?”

Deceit’s voice seemed to come from a great distance away. Too far away to be a bother. Even with his speed, there was no way he would be able to stop Roman in time.

With what little remained of his energy he pulled on the window. The latch sprung free under his fingers, frame opening. A blast of warm air hit him, the illusion of the jungle vanishing upon the contact. There, as he had already known, was the uninviting reality of the hellscape. There was nothing out there to help him. Why had he thought there would be?

A blurred shape flew past him, Roman gasping as he sank down against the wall, his legs betraying him for the second time this afternoon. There was nothing left in him to fight and he wasn’t sure what he had just unleashed into the room.

Dreading what he might see, Roman forced himself to look up and across the room. Deceit was still standing by the sofa, his attention no longer fixed on Roman but instead on the black shape that had come hurtling through the window. At first glance, the thing seemed roughly human in shape and size. Smoke shifted and danced around the edges of the form, making it impossible to truly understand what he was looking at.

He had to try though. He had to hold onto that one guiding principle which had kept him going throughout this whole strange show his life had become. The truth was worth it. The truth had to be worth it, because Roman didn’t have any other weapons with which to defend himself. Whatever the dark shape was, he would face it head on.

As if in answer to those internal thoughts and desires, the mysterious figure in front of him gave a shudder, blackness coiling back and around itself. The escaping wisps swarmed back towards it, melting into one figure alone. Smoke slowly formed into a shape that was at once familiar and frighteningly alien. It was Virgil, but not exactly as Roman knew him. Not as he had ever seen him before.

Large wings stretched out behind him. They were larger than Roman himself, protruding through the black checked hoodie without causing any damage to it. That was about the only part of the jacket that was properly intact. Deep gashes ran along the sleeves of it, turning it into ribbons below his elbows. Which, in turn only highlighted a series of bruises and scrapes on his arms. It looked almost as though he had crawled on his hands and knees through a gravel pit. Then there were the burned edges at the base of the jacket, at least one hole that he knew hadn’t been there before.

Virgil’s already ripped jeans were probably in equally bad condition, but it was harder to be sure about that since he didn’t know how many tears there had been in them to start with.

Roman knew he should be worried about that, but try as he might, he couldn’t look away from the wings. They were beautiful in a truly terrifying sense. Although Roman hadn’t spent any time imagining if Virgil had wings, let alone what they might look like, if he had, his daydreams wouldn’t have been anything close to this reality.

Feathers covered a large portion of them, dark purple, almost black feathers that shone like light catching on a mixture of water and oil. That was almost expected - albeit they weren’t the bat like wings that showed up more often in demon art. It was the tips which were the most stunning. They looked as though they were made of crystal, jagged edges sticking up along the full length. The crystals ran the full gauntlet of Virgil’s apparent prefered colour, from a pale lavender all the way down to a deep indigo. Light reflected through them, a stained glass rainbow of purple splashed across the floor.

The long thin tail he had noticed before was back. It flicked backwards and forwards across the floor, reminding Roman of an angry cat.

Not to mention Virgil was... smouldering.

And not in the attractive sense of the word. He was literally smoking, wisps of black curling up from his clothes. That didn’t belong to the darkness Virgil had apparently used to get back in the house. The scent of ash had drifted in with him, a softer one than the heavy burnt smell which Roman could remember from outside. If that wasn’t enough, Roman was pretty sure he could see hints of orange actually on his hair, tiny little flickers of movement that danced to their own tune.

“Son. I certainly expected you back so soon,” Deceit said, tone suddenly cautious. He had drawn back slightly, eyes narrowed as he examined the other demon. Virgil angled his head to the side, glancing towards Roman for just a second before looking away. It was impossible to be sure, but in that moment, Roman was struck by the strange feeling that Virgil was worried. A worry, that, if it existed, should have vanished now he was home.

“Yeah well, I don’t like being flung to the other side of town. Especially when it’s done by someone who is meant to be a guest in my home. I don’t know what you think you’re playing at Dad, but this ends now.”

“I’m trying to make sure this human is good enough for you,” Deceit replied, tilting his chin upwards in a display of bravado.

“Good enough for me?” Virgil gave a short bark of laughter that was filled with anything but amusement. “He’s a human! He’s a human you bought and gave to me like you’d give a kid a goldfish! You don’t get to decide that! He’s my Roman and you better not have laid a finger on him!”

Dimly, Roman was aware that he should probably be more involved in this conversation. At the very least, he should be standing beside Virgil. Letting him know that he wasn’t alone in this. Roman had never had any serious arguments with his parents - until this whole ‘deal with a demon’ thing had come up, he had never even wanted to. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it had to be to stand up to a parent.

Which only made this whole thing way more confusing. Roman was really getting sick of being confused about Virgil. About his relationship with his dad, or the other demons. About what he actually wanted, and what he planned to do next.

Possibly he should also be offended at the term ‘my’ Roman and everything it implied. All he could do however was continue to sit there, his back against the wall. His chest was still heaving, Roman struggling to get in enough air. His mind was racing, jumping through all sorts of creative ideas as to what might have happened if Virgil hadn’t returned when he did.

“Get out of my house!” Virgil all but screamed the words, wings hunching ever higher, trying to make himself appear larger. He seemed to be mantling, the sight reminding Roman of when he had gone to a falconry display. Assuming the birds in question had wings that were half feather, half crystal and could talk. So not like a falconry display at all.

“Fine,” Deceit huffed. “There are better ways to get what I want anyway.”

With that vaguely ominous threat ringing round the room, Deceit spun on his heel and stormed out. A few moments later, Roman heard the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut.

It was done. He was gone. They were... safe? Almost. Not quite. Belatedly, Roman struggled back to his feet and pulled the window shut. Closing them back into the little bubble of protection that Virgil’s home offered.

He sagged against the wall, exhaling one more time. Breathing came easier to him now that Deceit wasn’t there. He could feel the strength start to return to his body as oxygen was pumped through his blood steam. Virgil half turned towards Roman, apparently unconcerned by the flames that were still flickering on top of his head. His eyes, while still purple, were glowing. There was no other way to describe them. They shone with a bright violet light and for an absurd moment Roman wondered if they could actually light up darkness.

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. He dropped heavily down to one knee as he tried to stumble back towards him, the dull thud making Roman wince a little. Virgil barely seemed aware of the sound or the motion, his whole attention fixed on Roman alone. For the first time, that stare didn’t make him feel defensive, or uncomfortable. It felt - other. Different. Not so bad.

Roman moved without thinking, darting forward and dropping more gracefully down onto his knees in front of Virgil. Hands lifted, gripping the demon’s shoulders to try and support him. It wouldn’t do for Virgil to fall flat on his face. Not if Roman could help. Not after everything that had just happened.

“Please, please, tell me if you’re okay. Not... not an order. Request. Please. Did Dad - did anything happen?” Virgil rambled, eyes darting all over the place. They couldn’t seem to stay focused in any one spot for longer than a few seconds. It was a far cry from the self righteous fury that Roman had seen only a few moments ago when he had been facing his father. The bright, unnatural light had faded from them as well, leaving the by now familiar purple. Still stunning.

“I’m okay,” Roman promised, and aside from feeling utterly drained from the situation it was nothing less than the truth. Deceit hadn’t hurt him. Virgil sighed softly, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension seemed to drain away from them at those words. Had he honestly been that worried about Roman? Wings folded up behind him, drawing in closer to his back.

Something cool pressed against his ankle and this time Roman didn’t need to look down to know that it was Virgil’s tail coiling around him once more.

Virgil didn’t appear to be aware of the action. For some reason, Roman didn’t want to be the one to point it out. He wasn’t sure if he just didn’t want to cause Virgil any embarrassment or if he just didn’t mind when it was this and nothing more extreme. It didn’t really matter one way or the other, because Roman knew the motion was harmless. That it was Virgil’s way of reassuring himself that Roman really was okay it seemed. How could he begrudge him that?

With a soft popping sound, the wings vanished from view. The tail, did not. It was still there, still wrapped around Roman’s ankle and didn’t seem to show any signs of moving.

The evidence appeared impossible to ignore. Virgil, for whatever reason, appeared to honestly care about Roman’s well being. Not just because he didn’t want to anger his dad - he had stood up to the other demon, had sided with Roman over him. It made absolutely no sense and Roman was determined to get a straight answer out of Virgil about it.

Just not this second. Right now he wanted to know what he had missed, what Deceit had done. And if Virgil was alright in turn. He didn’t look like it.

“What... what happened to you?” Roman asked. The answer probably belonged on the very long list of things he didn’t really want to know. But the question was differently on the even longer list of things that had to be asked regardless. Virgil looked a mess and although he was pretty sure that Virgil wouldn’t open up on his own, this time Roman needed to know. Because whatever had happened, had done so because Deceit wanted to talk to Roman. That didn’t make it his fault... but he couldn’t help and feel somewhat to blame.

“Dad... sent me to the pits. Not too dangerous, not - not unless you need to leave quickly because there... there isn’t really an easy way to do that?” Virgil replied, words coming out more like a question than an explanation.

“That thing he threw you? It was what - it transported you there?” Roman had seen enough sci-fi shows to understand teleportation and he couldn’t help a tiny flutter of pride at the thought that here was something he could grapple with. It might not be something he had ever dealt with before - or indeed realised was real - but it was something he could understand with ease. “To these pits? What are they anyway?”

“Yeah. The pits are where... It's where lots of human souls that demons own but don’t want to personally deal with, are... put. They work there. I suppose it is the uh... more traditional human concept of Hell? You know. Fire. Brimstone. Pitched folks and all that rubbish. I’d never send you there. Or go there myself,” Virgil assured him and how strange, but even though Roman now knew there was a traditional Hell, he had never even considered the possibility that Virgil might. He had instinctively trusted that Virgil wouldn’t do that.

Something had changed. Something that meant the pair of them were still kneeling on the ground, Roman still helping to hold Virgil upright.

“They sound...” Roman trailed off, unsure what to actually say. Unpleasant, horrible, all round bad didn’t seem to do it justice. Virgil appeared oblivious to his struggles as he carried on rambling.

“But to get out you need to go to one of the foremen, you have to get permission. It takes hours, if not days because they get their power from messing around other people. It isn’t in their nature to help, even another demon. Honestly, I don’t know how dad managed to send me there in the first place. Either it was really lucky and the timing was perfect, or there was some collusion going on with one of the foremen which is improbable.”

Virgil hesitated before giving a low, barely there laugh. It was better than the cold one he had given before, but only just.

“Or, final option, he didn’t care about the risks. Didn’t care that it was dangerous and could hurt me but despite everything I’m kinda really holding onto the hope that he hadn’t actively planned to try and kill me. Either way, he thought I would be stuck there long enough to do... well, whatever it was that he was going to try and do to you.”

“And if you need to get out quickly?” Roman could feel a knot start to build in his stomach. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Virgil had moved very rapidly from the fact that you shouldn’t be able to leave to all the ways in which he could have been thrown into it. Or how he was trying to make the conversation be about Deceit’s motives. Yes, that was something Roman wanted to learn, but right now he was more worried about the thing that Virgil didn’t want to talk about. Which meant there was something to talk about.

“I know you said there isn’t a way out quickly, but there clearly is, because you got out and you’re kinda looking like crap. No offence Virgil.”

“Thanks, what a charmer,” Virgil replied. Roman simply waited, holding his gaze. To his amazement Virgil looked away first. He caught his bottom lip with his teeth, chewing on it. And not answering Roman’s question.

“Talk to me Virgil,” Roman insisted. This felt closer to equals than ever before. As if they might be... friends. Just two guys hanging out together. Virgil’s problems with his father were all too human.

“You have to. Maybe. Fly through the pits that are also pools. It’s weird, once you reach the top of the pits there is uh, a layer, suspended in the air. Get through that and you’re back in the normal Underworld and the entrances just look like little lakes of... stuff.” Virgil trailed off once more, gaze angled to examine the floor as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“A layer,” Roman repeated back to him, tone flat and unimpressed. In any other situation, Roman might be amused - if not awed - by the way Virgil was all but cowering in front of him. Some mighty demon. Virgil really didn’t seem like a monster in this moment. If it wasn’t for the tail that was still coiled around his ankle, Roman might be forgiven for forgetting that Virgil wasn’t human.

Really, he should find a way to let Virgil know about that without making him feel self conscious about it. Somehow. When Roman wasn’t pressing him for answers as to what on earth had just happened.

“A layer of - what exactly?”

Virgil fidgeted slightly but didn’t answer. Roman didn’t press him. Just waiting him out seemed to have worked the last time. It stood to reason that it would work again.

“Of lava,” Virgil admitted at last.

“You... you flew through lava? To get back... to get back here? To me?” Roman couldn’t help the way his voice dipped low in shock. Became soft and barely there. Demon or not, lava sounded like a really bad thing. The fact that Virgil had shown up in such a state proved that. That had to be more than just trying to spite your dad or whatever it was that that Roman had first thought.

Virgil had done that out of... worry? He had been that scared for Roman? What sort of things had Deceit done in the past to make Virgil think his dad would do something so terrible that needed to risk his own health like that? Roman couldn’t help but think that maybe he had misjudged the demon yet again. And maybe it was about time he actually started talking to Virgil as closer to a friend instead of an enemy.

“Only a little bit of lava?” Virgil replied, voice sheepish. He lifted his hand as he spoke, thumb and forefinger pressed together as if to mime the level. As though the amount of the lava somehow made it less dangerous and thus okay.

“Only a little bit still sounds like way too much! What the hell Virgil? I mean it’s great that you came back when you did, because your dad was being really weird but he hadn’t exactly tried to hurt me.”

“Yet,” Virgil replied, a scowl slipping onto his features. It didn’t seem to be aimed at Roman, but rather turned inward. As though musing on past experiences with his father and really Roman didn’t know the other demon at all. He had no idea what he was really capable of. If Virgil thought his dad was dangerous enough that he would risk his own health in getting back as fast as possible then Roman should just accept it.

As well as be grateful that he had thought to open the window to let him back in. But... he hadn’t. Not exactly. Roman hadn’t wanted to open that window. At least, not on his own.

Wait. How did you get back... I... did you use the scroll?” Roman asked quietly, the thought forming in bits and pieces in his mind, too jumbled to make any clear sense.

Virgil’s eyes flickered down, looking away from him once more. It was an answer without words and one that made Roman blink a couple of times

So that was what it felt like. He had already known what it was like to have his... contract... used against him. But he had been aware of it happening. This had been different. A thought planted inside his head, one that he couldn’t escape until he acted upon it.

“Well... I did say you could,” Roman mumbled at last. He couldn’t bring himself to feel the level of anger and disgust that he had felt the last time. Or that horrible sense of helplessness. Even if Virgil had used his body as a means to an end. Controlled him like a puppet.

Virgil’s attention snapped back to Roman’s face, eyes wide in shock. As though Roman had said something wholly unbelievable. He had really expected Roman to hate him for that, hadn’t he?

Roman had said he could do it. He hadn’t wanted Virgil to of course. And he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of fear, something deep down in his soul. It had been so easy for Virgil to hijiack his body, to make it do what he had needed to in the moment. To save Roman. And once more, Roman had given him permission. He found his thoughts circling back to that, time and time again. He had told Virgil to do that if the need arose. All Virgil had done was trust him and take him at his word. Roman couldn’t get mad at Virgil for doing that. No matter how much Virgil clearly thought he would. Or should.

Roman didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t allowed that. He didn’t want to imagine Virgil’s fears coming true by Deceit doing whatever it was he had thought. Or Virgil betraying his trust by using the contact anyway for a so-called greater good.

“Um... Roman?” Virgil sounded funny, his voice an octave or two higher than normal. It was enough to pull Roman away from his increasingly negative spiral of thoughts and back to the somewhat singed demon in front of him. Did Virgil always look that pale? It was hard to judge since he wore white foundation to start with but Roman knew a thing or two about makeup. And skin tone. It was amazing what foundation could do and what it could disguise, yet for all of that, it was clear that his skin was a ghastly pale shade. As though all the blood was rushing away from his face.

“What is it, emo nightmare?”

“Don’t - uh, don’t freak out or anything. That’s. That’s my thing?” Virgil asked, his words making no sense. Freak out? About what? The fire thing? Roman was already freaking out rather badly about the fact that Virgil had flown through lava in the first place. It was a little too late to be told not to panic about it now. Both what it was and what it could possibly represent.

The softest gasp slipped from Virgil’s lips. It could have been a sigh more than anything else and if Roman hadn’t been listening for some explanation to his words it was unlikely he would have heard it at all.

Eyes rolled up in the back of Virgil’s head, the demon slumping forward without any further words. It reminded Roman of someone letting a doll slip from their hands. All loose limbs and his head hanging at an awkward angle. Luckily, he fell onto Roman, saving Virgil from hitting the ground face first. Not that it felt like a good thing right now, because Virgil was still dead to the world.

Roman stared down at the unconscious demon in his arms, his mouth ajar.

What on earth was he supposed to do now?

Chapter Text

The phone.

Virgil had a phone. He’d seen the demon use it so many times and there had been a couple of moments when Roman had wondered if the thing was permanently attached to him. And a different couple of moments where he had been struck by the petty urge to try and smack the thing out of Virgil’s hands. Just to get a reaction out of him, and to feel as if he had some kind of control in all of this.

How could he have forgotten that? How could he be so stupid, so slow? Roman shook his head, pushing the annoyance away. Now was not the time to be beating himself up over that. What he had to do was get the phone. Which meant searching Virgil. Who wasn’t exactly able to give his views on Roman going through his things. What choice did he have? It wasn’t like a kiss. Or kidnapping him. All he was going to do was reach into pockets.

Which just happened to be attached to the clothes that Virgil was wearing. So he was going to have to touch Virgil while looking for it. Greater good. The whole thing was for the greater good.

Exhaling sharply, Roman slowly shifted Virgil’s limp body. Carefully, he manoeuvred him, quickly reaching into first one and then the other jacket pocket. There was no reassuring cool weight of a phone in either of them.

Of course the phone wasn’t in his hoodie pocket. That would be simple and easy. When had Roman ever gotten a lucky break in this place? Why would it start now? It wasn’t in his hoodie, and that meant it had to be in one of his jean pockets.

“Please wake up,” Roman pleaded and he would have given a lot for those purple eyes to snap open right about now. Maybe for a sarcastic comment and then an argument. Anything rather than this.

Virgil remained stubbornly, annoyingly, unconscious.

This was possibly the most uncomfortable Roman had ever been in. He pulled once more, dragging Virgil into a semi sitting position. The demon’s limp body instantly folded up against him, Virgil’s head rocking forward to rest against his neck.

To anyone looking, it no doubt would appear as if the two of them were embracing on the ground. Virgil’s was a warm weight against him and at least he was still breathing. That had to count for something. Roman had no idea what he was going to do if Virgil was seriously injured - or worse. He couldn’t think like that. Everything was going to somehow work out. There was no other way it could happen.

Roman closed his eyes and slipped a hand into one of Virgil’s pockets.

Fingers brushed against the edge of a phone.

Thank good.

Next problem. The pin. Roman had no idea where to even start to guess what numbers Virgil would use. That was even assuming he was the sort to use a memorable number instead of just random digits. Still, there were other ways to unlock a phone. Virgil didn’t seem like the sort to want to waste time typing in numbers all the time when there were quicker ways in. Like a fingerprint. Demon’s had fingerprints right? They seemed to have everything else - and a few more besides, that tail a constant weight against him.

Roman fumbled for the phone once more, lifting Virgil’s limp hand to press against the fingerprint lock. The lock screen dissolved, unlocking and Roman was left with the sight of his background. And a heady brust of relief. That had actually worked. Maybe, just maybe, Roman’s luck was starting to change. It would be about time.

Virgil was grinning brightly in the background photo. Another male stood beside him, leather clad arm around Virgil’s shoulder. They were both staring directly at the camera - well Virgil was. The stranger was wearing sunglasses but Roman assumed he was looking in the same direction. One of Virgil’s arms raised to show that it was a selfie. The two of them seemed completely relaxed around each other.

Roman stared down at it, feeling his cheeks grow hotter the longer he looked at the photo. He had never seen Virgil smile like that before. It seemed as though the emo actually had a nice one when he wasn’t too busy being a walking stereotype.

It also felt... wrong almost, to be looking through his phone. The lock screen was one thing, but this was his background. This was something personal that Virgil had chosen to stare at every time he used his phone. It was something that had to mean something important to the demon. Looking at it, Roman wasn’t really surprised. It was so obviously a treasured moment between friends. Roman had photos like that on his phone - photos of friends he might never see again. Friends he would never see again if Deceit and Virgil had their way.

The next inhale of breath was sharper than the one that came before. It seemed to cut into his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Something in the air no doubt. A leftover bit of smoke catching in his throat or something. That was why his eyes were getting itchy as well, a tiny bit of water covering them like a film. That damnable smoke. It got everywhere in Hell.

Every time he thought of himself in Hell, it got just that tiny bit easier to accept. The reality, if not the future. He had no desire to accept it as his only future. Even if he might never - might not - Roman couldn’t even finish the thought.

Eyes closed for a moment, a tiny trickle of tear seeping out as he sought to bring himself under control. This wasn’t the time for that. He still had to do... whatever it was he was planning to do now he had managed to get his hands on Virgil’s phone.

If Roman wanted to, he could look through his photos. See exactly what Virgil had chosen to keep a record of. See if he was as innocent as he claimed to be or if there were gorey torutre photos of there, On the flip side, he might find innocent photos that didn’t portray him as evil. It might tell Roman a little bit more about the demon. He might be able to get a better understanding of Virgil. He might find something he could use to blackmail him with. Maybe even bad enough to get out of here - except out of here just led to Deceit right now. Roman might not be sure about Virgil, but he was very sure that he didn’t want to end up alone with Deceit.

The temptation was like a physical itch, thumb twitching as it hovered over the camera icon. There was so much about Virgil that Roman didn’t know. And he was more than a little certain that Virgil wouldn’t tell him, even if he asked. Just getting him to admit he had flown through lava had been hard enough. And really, something along those lines had been pretty obvious, looking back on how on fire and burnt Virgil and his clothing had been.

It wasn’t like Virgil was going to share personal details with him. Not without Roman taking matters into his own hands. And here it was. The promise of knowledge once more. The idea that he could put himself on some kind of even playing field with the demon.

Unbidden, the image of Logic rose in his mind.

No. No, Roman wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the sort to invade someone’s personal life, and there was little that was more precious and personal than your own phone. Virgil hadn’t looked through his stuff when Roman had been unconscious. He hadn’t taken advantage of any situation where he could learn more than he already did. If Virgil could do that, then so could Roman.

Roman was not going to be shown up by a demon.

Okay, so he had a phone. What next?

He couldn’t call home. The fact there was a signal here was surreal enough. What was he supposed to say to his parents if one of them actually picked up? ‘I’m in Hell, I need Dad to come get me?’

This wasn’t like missing the last bus home after a football game and needing a last minute rescue. They already knew where he was and they couldn’t come here. And Roman didn’t know how to leave. Calling the police seemed like equally a bad idea. Not that they would believe him. It might make them pop round to his house though and then his parents would have to explain his disappearance to them.

What if they were blamed for it?

They might be partly responsible - that was as far as Roman was willing to go with that thought right now - but he didn’t want the police to get the wrong idea and arrest them for his murder or something equally ridicious.

He shook his head in frustration, blindly stabbing at one of the icons just for the sake of doing something. Texts opened up on the screen in front of him.

It was all written in a script he didn’t understand. Of course it was. It wasn’t like he deserved a break after all of this. No, he had to be faced with a phone that was set to a language that he didn’t know. Despite speaking English, it looked as though demons had their own written language and it was way beyond any hope he had of understanding it.

It was still a phone though. Roman knew how phones worked, even if he might not be able to read the details. They were all similar at the end of the day, all used logos which resembled each other, all had menus in roughly the same locations. So while he might not know everything, there were a couple of things he could be sure about. Like what it meant when a string of letters kept repeating over and over again, on both the phone and envelope icon.

That was the number Virgil called and texted the most. It had to be his friend, the one he had mentioned. Normally, Roman wouldn’t even have dreamed about calling yet another demon into this mess. Out of the three he had met, the only one even half decent had been Virgil. The other two had spent most of their time around him threatening him in one way or another. It stood to reason that the majority of demons would behave in the same way.

After all, Virgil had mentioned pits and damnation as a pretty normal situation around here. If anything, Virgil appeared to be the outlier who shouldn’t be counted when it came to describing an average demon. Sleep - that was what Virgil had said right? His friend was called Sleep? Sleep could be just like the others. The demons of this Hell more than proved every negative story about them. They were dangerous and deadly. Roman might be impulsive and willing to risk his own safety for the chance of freedom but was he really stupid enough to call one of them? For Virgil’s sake? Wasn’t that just asking for trouble?

Or, he could trust Virgil’s taste when it came to the company he kept. He could believe that there was more good in this Hell than first appeared. This was Virgil’s friend - the one in the photo on the phone? While Roman couldn’t trust him, he could hold onto the thought that he could take a chance. Take a risk.

And if the number turned out to be Deceit... well, at least he would know the truth about Virgil, that this whole thing was a lie.

Without another though, Roman pressed the call button. He held the phone up against his ear, eyes fixed on the top of Virgil’s head. The orange glow had faded away into nothing, all traces of lit fire fading away into nothing. Some of that dark purple hair looked singed. Virgil was not going to be happy when he noticed that. Roman hoped he would be around to see it because it promised to be entertaining. Assuming that was the worst of the damage of course.

“Come on, come on, pick up,” Roman mumbled as it rang for a third time. Which, he knew, wasn’t a very long time at all but this was an emergency! Surely Sleep should just... know, that he was needed. A soft click sounded over the line even as he thought that.

“Sup babes,” a voice crooned through the speakers, and that was not the sort of greeting that Roman had expected from a friend of Virgil’s. “What have you been up to, come on, spill the tea.”

“Um... Sleep?”

“Who is this?” Tone slipped instantly into one of ice, so cold that Roman couldn’t help but wince a little at it. “How did you get Anxiety’s phone?”

“It’s uh-” Roman paused, biting at his bottom lip as he tried to think and Virgil had warned him about using his name. About the danger just handing over something personal like that could be for him. Yes, this was Virgil’s friend but Virgil had told him not to trust anyone. Even himself. If he couldn’t trust the demon in his arms - and wasn’t that a strange sentence to think - then Roman couldn’t trust the stranger on the other end of the line.

“It’s Anxiety’s... human?” The title felt wrong in his mouth but he couldn’t think of any other way to describe himself.

From the phone, Sleep chucked, still cold. Roman hadn’t even met him yet and he was still coming across as far more frightening than Deceit had ever managed. Maybe it was because that for all of his undeniable menace, Deceit had come across as playing a role. This was something far more intense, far more earthy and real. This was someone who cared for Virgil in a way Roman had yet to see anyone else do.

“Oh so you’re the distraction huh? That still doesn’t explain how you managed to get a hold of my kit’s phone, when I know for a fact that he has it attached to him every moment of his life. I swear, if you’ve hurt him, I’ll make you understand just why you humans fear my kind so badly.”

The thing was, Roman believed him. He believed him in a way that he had never quite believed Virgil’s threats. Even when Virgil had screamed at him, even when he had shown off the power he had over Roman, he hadn’t been afraid. Oh he had been angry, had cried tears of hot frustration. He had felt helpless and lost, and even upset. Even scared of the situation, of all the unknowing elements that now surrounded his life. But Roman had never been afraid of Virgil himself. He had given as good as he had got, had yelled and kicked back.

Sleep could snap him in half without a second thought or second doubt. That much seemed obvious. He appeared more than willing to do that as well.

Virgil was lucky to have such a good friend, willing to do that for him. Roman could only wish he had such a friend. While he was popular, well liked, his friendships never felt as deep as this did. Or maybe it was because he was judging them from impossible standards. None of them even knew he had been kidnapped and they certainly couldn’t help him. It wasn’t right of Roman to think otherwise.

“Look, his dad was here and Anxiety, he, he isn’t looking so-” Roman began and he needed to keep his mind focused on the issue at hand.

“His dad?” Sleep interrupted, words still sharp. If anything, his tone had become even more icy than before.

It helped a little, to know that it wasn’t just Virgil who had issues with his dad. If Sleep felt the same way - and it was clear he did - then obviously Roman had been right to be concerned about being alone with him. It almost made Virgil’s sacrifice understandable. Almost.

“Yeah, he came and he’s gone now but Anxiety is. Well, he is sort of unconscious, his dad sent him away and he came back and made Deceit go and then... passed out. I don’t know what to do.”

“You can let me in.” Sleep demanded. Roman blinked a couple of times, pulling the phone away from his cheek in order to stare at it. As if the phone could somehow explain the strange words. Let him in? What, could he move through the phone lines? That seemed... weird, even for a demon.

A tapping on the window had Roman turning his head towards the one he had only just closed, the same one Virgil had flown through. It felt like an eternity ago but it had to be mere minutes.

Someone was standing on the other side, hand pressed against the glass. That was apparently enough to break the illusion once more. It was the man from the photo, a phone held against his ear. He hadn’t been there a second ago, surely? He would have known that Virgil was unconscious had he already been standing there. The sunglasses might be firmly on his face, but Roman could just tell that Sleep was glaring at him.

How on earth had he gotten here so fast?

“Let. Me. In.” Sleep repeated.

Even Virgil had needed the window open to get in the house. Some kind of protection and dimly, Roman remembered Virgil saying something about that, about a way of keeping them all safe. At the time, he had dismissed it as just another excuse, a way to keep Roman locked up. Now, he was starting to accept that there were things out there that he really didn’t want to let in.

Sleep, for all the ominous vibes he was giving off, seemed to be honest in his concern for Virgil. That was probably the best Roman could hope for right about now. Plus, he was another demon so he would at least know what to do about the whole... being unconscious thing.

Carefully, he eased Virgil off him and let his body roll gently onto the floor. Virgil barely reacted to the motion, a faint flicker of eye movement behind his closed lids the only sign that he was still alive at all. Exhaling heavily, Roman climbed to his feet. He took a second to try and centre himself, and what was already a weird life was just getting stranger by the day. After everything that had happened, he now had to open a window to let a monster of the night in. To help him.

He breathed out again, shaking his head a little. Roman turned, striding purposefully towards the window and he wasn’t going to let Sleep know how uncertain he was. Or at least - he tried to move.

Roman managed half a step before something tugged on his leg, dragging him back and pinning him in place. Glancing down, it was to find that while Virgil might have passed out, his wings vanishing, his body limp... his tail hadn’t followed suit. It was still wrapped around him, and appeared unwilling to let go.

“Oh come on!” Roman grumbled. He bent down, tugging at the thin wire like tail that was coiled around his ankle.

It was like pulling at a snare. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed to just tighten in other places. Roman might have thought Virgil was doing it on purpose except he did believe that the demon was still unconscious. This was all... subconscious. Natural. Was it a Virgil thing or a demon thing? Roman wasn’t sure. Just that he couldn’t even get a fingernail between his trouser and the tail. Thankfully, it slackened a little when he stopped pulling on it, so the blood wasn’t cut off completely but that didn’t help him actually get free.

Okay. Time to do this the hard way. If he couldn’t leave Virgil behind, then he was just going to have to bring Virgil with him. And that meant hooking his arm around his shoulder and dragging him half upright. Purple hair covered most of his face as his head lolled about helplessly, Roman wincing a little at the sight. That was going to give him a stiff neck in the morning.

Dragging Virgil across the room was tougher than he expected. For a skinny demon, he sure was heavy. Maybe it was the wings that were no longer visible but still contributing to his weight? It was yet another puzzle, another question that Roman had to file away in his mind and accept that he probably wasn’t going to get an answer. Because there were far more important things to be asking, should he get a chance.

The stare he could feel from the window didn’t help either. Although Sleep hadn’t said a word about Virgil, Roman could practically feel the disapproval radiating off him in waves. Roman would love to justify himself, to point to the tail but surely Sleep had seen him struggle with it? Just as clearly, it was obvious he didn’t care. And why should he? Roman was nothing to Sleep. Not like Virgil.

With that cheery thought in mind, Roman at last reached the window, pulling it open yet again. Sleep seemed to dissolve into smoke, pouring inside in a matter of moments, the transformation very similar to the way in which Virgil had entered. When the newer demon reformed however, it was thankfully without wings. Roman really couldn’t take yet another physical reminder of what they all were right now.

“Right, get him over to the couch,” Sleep instructed. It was easier to move back into the room because Sleep had gathered Virgil up, his arm around his shoulder so the unconscious demon was supported by them both. Probably more by Sleep because Roman could barely feel him as they laid him carefully down on the couch.

Sleep hovered by his side, Roman a little further down near his feet, still trapped in place by the tail.

“Come on babes, come on,” Sleep whispered. Long, pale fingers danced over the dark tail. They seemed to be... was Sleep massaging it? He was pressing against it gently, soothing rather than pulling. Trying almost to tease it loose. Roman stared, transfied. Part of him knew that he probably shouldn’t be looking, that this felt like a very personal moment between them but he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t do anything but watch.

“You did well kit. You did so well, I’m so proud. You protected your distraction but it’s done. Deceit is gone, everyone is safe now. You can relax okay? That’s it... let it go sweetheart. Let it go, I’m here now, I’ll look after you. And your little human, I promise. Sleep is here, and you’re safe.”

Sleep kept up a steady stream of talking as his fingers continued their work. Slowly, bit by bit, the tail loosened its grip on Roman’s ankle. His foot felt full of pins and needles, blood flowing once more and making him pay for the privilege. It could have been one minute, it could have been ten, Roman didn’t know. He had no way of measuring time in this strange bubble that seemed to have formed around them. A bubble of soft noise and more comfort than he could have ever thought possible.

Virgil’s tail finally went completely slack. It slipped away from Roman’s ankle, granting him complete freedom once more. He didn’t move. It wasn’t a question of not being able to anymore... there was a large part of him that didn’t want to. The same part that wanted to be included in this hug, that wanted the safety and friendship that was on offer here. Roman missed his friends. He missed his family. He missed having someone in his life that would look after him like that, who cared about him like that.

It wasn’t fair.

Sleep seemed oblivious to it as he glided onto the sofa. There was really no other word to describe it. He seemed to simply slide under Virgil’s still form and then reappear, Virgil’s head in his lap. Sleep was still fully focused on his friend, whispering softly to him as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

“There we go... good boy. Such a good Anxiety for me, yes you are.”

Head moved, glasses lifting and Roman couldn’t help but feel small under the blank gaze. Sleep lifted his free hand, the other threading it’s way through Virgil’s hair. With a dramatic click of his fingers, he beckoned Roman forward.

“Now. Distraction. How about you tell me exactly what Daddy Dearest said? I know him, he wouldn’t come here without three different reasons and plans in his head.”

---

If there was one consistent thing about the Underworld, it was that the majority of demons tended to be in a bad mood, most of the time. They stomped about their business as if the very dirt under their feet had done something to anger them and needed to be punished as a result. Scowls and yells were the most common form of greeting from one demon to another. They all seemed so... afraid. So worried that the one they were talking to would see anything else as a sign of weakness. And they couldn’t have that, so they each tried to be the biggest, the baddest demon around.

Honestly, Patton couldn’t understand it.

Logic would tell him that of course he didn’t understand it, he couldn’t. If they were alone and Logic was feeling - not feeling, never feeling - particularly generous and satisfied with his day's work, he might even finish the whole thought. He might admit that he was glad that Patton didn’t understand it. That it proved that Patton was still the same soul he had always been. That Logic hadn’t... drained him yet.

For all that Logic was ever hungry for new information or ideas, for all that his demon was constantly searching for more, he still found a strange sort of comfort in the idea of permanence. Patton wasn’t completely sure if he believed it - you couldn’t exist down here for as long as he had without changing to some degree. The important thing was that Logic believed it though. That he got something good out of it and all Patton wanted was to make sure Logic got whatever he could from life.

“Logic!”

That was another thing demon’s seemed to think they didn’t have to do. Knock.

The yell was accompanied by the front door swinging brutally open, an all too familiar demon storming inside and ruining the little bubble of peace that Patton had worked so hard to create. This was his home, his life and the least he could do for Logic was to make sure that he came back to something comfortable. It wasn’t fear that drove him - Patton had long ago lost any fear he had with the demon who owned him. Even when Logic decided enough was enough, and ended this century old dance they had, Patton would face that end without fear.

He just wanted this space to be right for his demon.

Patton knew what to do now. To step backwards and melt into the background. To become whatever it was that Logan’s visitor expected from a pet soul.

It was easy with a demon like Deceit. He never spent much time with any human soul, he never saw the point. They were food or currency. A bargaining chip and little else. He had no idea what was or wasn’t normal. What was to be expected. Patton could stay in the room and watch over Logic. Not that his demon needed his protector. Or that Patton would be able to do anything if the worst came to the worst. But it settled him a little, to know he could silently offer his support.

Logic probably had no idea he was even there. The bespectacled demon lowered the book he had been reading, fixing Deceit with all of his attention.

“Ah, Deceit. I wondered when you might pay me another visit. I presume you require my services once more?

“Logic, I want to know what my son is getting up to.” That wasn’t like Deceit. To get to the point so rapidly. Something must have happened between Logic’s visit and now. It was enough to spark Patton’s curiosity and he knew if it caught his attention, then it would undoubtedly have caught Logic’s. The question was, how would he play it? He was more than a match for any other demon in the Underworld and that included Deceit. No matter how much the Envy demon liked to act as though he was all powerful.

There was a heavy, pregnant pause. Patton found himself holding his breath as he carefully sorted through the books in front of him in order to give himself something to do. Slowly, Logan marked his page and closed his own book. He stood, each action deliberate and calm. Patton knew he was nothing of the sort. There was a rage lurking under that cool exterior, one that Logic hid by slow movements, by a slight adjustment of his tie.

“I already passed on information to you. I monitored his encounter with his reclaimed human property and sold you that for a very reasonable price I might add. I have nothing else to tell you.” Logic looked down, examining his nails with every appearance of boredom. All the better, Patton knew, to deliver his blow, to try and land a strike against Deceit if that was what he desired. Patton felt his heart start to pick up with anticipation.

“It is hardly my problem that you can’t control your son properly.” Logic whispered, every word icy.

That... that was a strike. It seemed like Logic really did want to pick a fight with Deceit. He would win of course. Patton had absolutely no doubt that he would win, that his Master would always win. But Patton couldn’t understand why he was doing that. Something had him worked up, he had been on edge ever since he had returned from his fact gathering trip. There had been something about this human soul, or about Anxiety, that Logic was caught by. Patton didn’t know if it was good or bad, not yet. Only that it had Logic flustered.

And Logic didn’t like to be flustered. It tended to lead him into being angry. Maybe it was that and only that, which led him to pick a fight now. Deceit’s gloved hands curled into fists and for one wild, insane moment, Patton actually thought he was going to try and hit Logic. Patton could feel his own muscles tensing in kind, ready to leap forward and try and take the blow.

Then Deceit’s hands relaxed again, all the stress washing away from him in an instant. Like Logic, it was too calm, too casual to be real, but unlike Logic, Patton couldn’t tell for sure. He didn’t know Deceit’s tells and more than that, he couldn’t work out what he was thinking. He was a mystery, a blank slate beyond the fact that he couldn’t be trusted.

“I’m willing to let you play with the human soul once this is sorted out. Once I have what I want, he can be all yours. I hear he rather captured your interest... it is about time you got yourself a new primary plaything. It’s been a while...” Deceit smiled as he spoke, something triumphant in his look.

Patton swallowed heavily and tilted his head down, staring intently at the books. He didn’t want to see Logic’s face. It seemed that while Deceit might not have much knowledge about human souls and how they worked on a day to day basis, he knew exactly the kind of things that would hook his demon’s attention. Patton couldn’t bear it if Logic found this other human more appealing. If Patton lost his place as a result. He couldn’t bear to be turned away like that. If - when - Logic grew tired of him, Patton wanted it to be because of him, not someone else.

“And what do you truly want from this Deceit? If your intentions were to mould your son into a demon more in your own image then you have wasted many years. And are still going about it the wrong way. You will not have him behave as you wish through mere observation.” The ice was still there, but Patton was no fool. He could hear the waver in those words, the way Logic was dancing around the topic, how he hadn’t actually turned Deceit down. Which meant he was going to agree to it.

“Logic... Logic, Logic, Logic...” Deceit was clearly enjoying himself now. From the way he teased at the name, it was obvious he felt he had the better hand. And really, he did. Because more than a new soul, more than the promise of someone to learn from, Logic hated the idea of someone knowing something he didn’t. It was a weakness, one Patton had never dared point out. Although he had shamefully used it to his advantage over the years. Just to help. To make sure Logic was safe.

“You should know that already. And if you don’t, I’m not going to tell you. Where is the challenge in that? You love a challenge, haven’t you always said so? It’s no fun if I just give you the answer.”

“I thought the human belonged to your son now?” Logic challenged, shifting tacks. Yet again, he avoided actually turning Deceit down. He probably thought he was being smart, the thought bringing a faint smile to Patton’s face as he carried on firmly examining the books in front of him. For a demon that was all about knowledge, about learning as much as he could, it still amazed Patton how transparent Logic could be at times. He was so obviously interested and his attempts to appear casual wouldn’t fool anyone.

They certainly didn’t seem to fool Deceit. Not if the sound of his light little laugh was any indication. It was amused and smug at the same time, and clearly he knew he was going to win.

“He does. But trust me. Once I’m finished, Anxiety will be more than willing to give him to me. Once I’m done, my boy will have zero interest in protecting that soul and you can sooth your wounded ego. Bathe in his blood if you want. I don’t care what happens to him, so long as this is done right.”

“I don’t. Trust you, that is,” Logic pointed out calmly. That made Patton lift his gaze once more, eyes wide and unguarded. It surprised him a little that Logic was willing to say that. Demon’s might prance around each other, might taunt and tease but they were rarely that direct. Even Logic was rarely that direct. Something about not wanting his opponent to see all the cards in his hand. Yet here he was, letting Deceit know exactly what he thought.

After all this time, all the years, Logic still surprised him. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he kept Patton around. Logic liked having someone to react to his actions. He needed an audience, someone to applaud him when he brilliantly solved a puzzle. He needed to prove how smart he was. For Logic, merely knowing it wasn’t enough. The rest of the world needed to know it too. And if not the world, then someone. Normally Patton.

“You don’t need to,” Deceit replied. “I’m willing to supply you with a soul upfront which will more than cover your expenses. It won’t be as interesting as the one I gave my son, but it should keep you fed until the larger soul is given to you. Even if I did fail to live up to the bargain in the way you expect, you would still have an extra soul. For just a little work. An acceptable trade off, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hmm... a little too acceptable, I would say,” Logic replied, eyes narrowed in mistrust. “A little too generous...”

“I am after something more important to me than the human soul. So long as I get what I need, I don’t care. I just need to know what he’s doing on a day by day basis while I get everything in position. The human that my son is playing with right now can be an added bonus for your work. So long as I know what you know and can prepare accordingly.” Deceit gave another little shrug, expression blank.

Without any warning Logic turned away from the demon, dark eyes fixing Patton with a stare. It seemed as if his demon hadn’t forgotten he was there after all. From the way his gaze was able to find Patton in an instant, it was as though he had been watching him all along. Maybe some part of Logic had never lost sight of him.

It was heartwarming, but Patton knew better than to take such a thing to mean Logic cared. Or was worried. Or anything that implied human emotions. Logic was very clear on the matter, on the fact that Patton had them, he didn’t and the human tendency to seek out emotions behind actions where there were none was infuriating to him.

And Patton didn’t want Logic to be angry at him. Not again. Not today.

Patton couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe or look away from that gaze. It pinned him as surely as it had done the first time they had met, back when Patton had been young and stupid. And lost, so very lost. So willing to give himself to a demon for what he got in return. It had held him effortlessly in place every time since too.

“Very well,” Logic agreed, still not looking at Deceit, still staring at Patton as though he was the answer to every question in this moment. “I will get you the information you seek. And I have the perfect soul to use to get it.”

Chapter Text

After nearly an hour, Roman escaped to the kitchen. He needed a break. From the questions Sleep would throw at him every five or so minutes. From the silence that filled the space between each set of questions, heavy, oppressive. Nothing to hear but the sound of three lungs inhaling and exhaling. From the blank sunglasses that made it impossible for Roman to guess what Sleep was thinking - or even where he was looking. From the way the demon would sit, Virgil’s head in his lap, long pale fingers threading through the sleeping emo’s hair. As though trying to make a point.

From the unconscious form of Virgil in general.

He had to get away from all of it. But at the same time, Roman didn’t - he couldn’t - go far. Even going up to his room was out of the question, no matter how tempting the idea was to just slam the door shut and lock the rest of the world out. What if Virgil woke up while he was up there and panicked? Virgil had flown through lava to get back to him, he hadn’t cared about his own health and safety, only Roman’s. He had no way of knowing how the demon would react when he woke up.

And honestly, Roman was worried about him. Virgil wasn’t a bad guy - demon - when all was said and done. It was pointless to pretend otherwise. Somehow, despite everything that had happened, Roman had come to think of Virgil in a positive light.

There was still the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this might be Stockholm or that he was somehow letting himself down by finding the good in Virgil, but Roman had seen too much to think anything else. Virgil had tried so hard to protect him. Not just against his dad, but against Logic. He had risked his own health time and time again. He had been courteous, he had allowed Roman his own space, his own lock on the door.

All in all, he was the best jailer anyone could hope to have. It didn’t excuse the fact that he was holding Roman here against his will, but even that wasn’t as bad as it first seemed. Roman believed him when Virgil said that he had little choice in the matter. Roman didn’t know if that made him a fool or not - only that he was willing to offer Virgil the benefit of the doubt. To try things his way for a change.

Assuming he ever woke up.

The sound of soft footsteps had him turning. Roman wasn’t sure what he was expecting - Virgil to have quietly woken up? Whatever it was, he should have guessed that it would actually turn out to be Sleep. Just as he wasn’t sure how the demon had managed to slide under Virgil in order to cushion his head, so he wasn’t sure how Sleep had then managed to get back out. All without making a sound or disturbing anyone.

Roman expected him to start the questions again. Perhaps with more force now that they were away from Virgil and Sleep didn’t need to worry about being quiet or soft for his friend.

Instead, Sleep stared at him. His lips were pressed into a tight little line, something that implied disapproval. Of what, Roman wasn’t sure. Roman himself? It wasn’t like any of this was his fault, not really. He hadn’t asked for this or asked Virgil to do anything. He had tried to help where he could. It wasn’t Roman’s fault that he was a human in a demon powered world.

Those thoughts all rose in his mind, like sea foam coming to the surface. They remained floating, washing up against the shore of his mind but Roman didn’t actually voice them. He didn’t want to get into yet another argument about his purpose here. He didn’t want to be reminded yet again of the difference in status between himself and anyone else.

The silence carried on.

Sleep carried on staring at him. Possibly. The glasses were certainly turned towards him, and Sleep was certainly standing there, with his arms crossed as though he expected something. It was nerve wracking. In a way different to any that had come before. Sleep was a dangerous beast, something wild and uncaged about him. This enforced stillness, quietness... it only made Roman more wary.

The breath before the plunge, the calm before the storm.

Whatever the storm turned out to be.

“What... what are you a demon of, anyway?” Roman asked. More to fill the dead air than anything else, to ask a question of his own before Sleep could continue with his interrogation. Roman had told him everything that had happened, everything he knew. He had gone over what Deceit had said, what Virgil had said, time and time again. He didn’t want to do it again. And he didn’t want to have to deal with any other question Sleep might think of. Better to ask first.

Right?

He regretted asking the question the moment it had left his mouth. Hadn’t he learnt anything by now? Asking a demon a question was an invitation for them to cause mischief. Unless it was Virgil of course. Then he might get a scowl or something that he would secretly describe as a pout, but it would usually come with an answer of some sort.

Rather than the game that all the others liked to play. Logic, Deceit... and now, even, it appeared, Virgil’s best friend.

Sleep stalked forward. There was really no other word to describe it. He moved like Roman was prey, his hips swaying in an almost hypnotic fashion. They were invitation and warning, all at once. Roman didn’t want to think about what they were saying, offering. He really didn’t want to even look at them but not looking meant looking at his face. And that was just as bad.

True, Roman couldn’t see his gaze thanks to the sunglasses that appeared stuck to his face but that was little comfort. There was a smirk on his lips that was impossible to ignore. One that implied the demon knew everything that had happened and was still happening. Roman didn’t want to be thinking about his lips but now that he had allowed his thoughts to drift in that direction it was impossible to shift them away. Sleep’s lips looked so soft, so kissable. The sort that just begged to be reddened with a series of frantic peppered kisses that would trace not only the slope of those lips but further along, to his jaw.

He blinked a couple of times, the world slamming back around him in an instant. Where the hell had that thought come from? Was Logic here again?

No. No, it felt different from the hunger he could remember curling up from his stomach. The fire that swept through him was of a stranger sort than before. It wasn’t so artificial, so all consuming. This was almost softer but no less deadly. A thought that filled the air like heavy perfume. Too powerful to be ignored, but too intangible to actually be pinned down and examined. All he knew for sure was that Sleep was a threat.

Despite himself, Roman couldn’t help but take a step backwards. And then another. All the way until he had bumped into the counter top. Even then, Sleep kept moving. Kept smiling that infuriating smile that told Roman he was more than aware of exactly what effect he was having upon Roman. There was a confidence in his movements that had been lacking in Virgil’s own. Something that screamed that Sleep was only too aware of how handsome he looked. And that he wasn’t afraid to either flaunt it, or use it to his advantage.

Arms lifted, resting on the cupboards above the counter, on either side of Roman. Trapping him firmly in place. Roman felt trapped as well. Not afraid though. Roman wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling, only that it wasn’t fear. It was something that he could probably name if he wanted to, but that would mean actually examining the feelings and no thank you.

“Demon of Desire, my little distraction,” Sleep whispered, lips brushing against the shell of Roman’s ear. His breath was hot against him, Roman wanting to shiver and squirm at the same time.

“Wait. But you’re... your name is Sleep,” Roman protested. None of these demons made any sense. None aside from Anxiety because Anxiety equalled Fear. That was fine. But really a demon hungry for logic? Desiring sleep? Why couldn’t they pick names that actually fit with what they were? If Virgil was to be believed, you needed the title of a demon in order to summon them, so surely you would want to be called something obvious.

Like Passion. If he was a demon, he would have been Passion.

“Don’t be a bore,” Sleep complained. He took a sip of the pink coloured drink and although Roman couldn’t see his eyes, he could somehow tell that he was rolling them. “Don’t confuse Desire with Lust. What could possibly be more desirable than sleep? Yeah yeah, lil Johnny down the road might be a complete heartthrob and you’d totally just die if you don’t get to kiss him, but you still have to go to bed eventually.”

Roman blinked a couple of times as Sleep spoke. His voice shifted and changed with the words, easily morphing into a scarily good impersonation of a southern belle teenager discussing their latest crush.

Sleep would have been a really good actor if things had been different. Roman could imagine him in classes, the two of them hanging out on stage. With Virgil backstage doing all the tech stuff that kept the whole thing running. Roman had never really had the patience for that. Or the patience for those that needed to do it. He had never stopped to really appreciate them and all the hard work they did.

Now he was never going to get the chance to thank them and that made a new shard of ice lodge itself deep into his chest. Sleep didn’t appear to notice, the demon still in his performance.

“Which brings you crawling right back to me.” Sleep pointed to himself triumphantly as he spoke, his shoulders rocking from side to side in undisguised glee. “Everybody wants me, so few get to touch me. It’s a tough job being this sexy but someone has to do it. And lucky for you all plebs out there, that someone? Is me.”

Sleep gave him a pointed look, very clearly expecting some kind of response. The only problem was, Roman had no idea what he wanted. Some applause? Some agreement about the nature of desire? Roman saying that he agreed and Sleep was indeed a sexy demon?

“You are... very strange,” Roman managed at last. Sleep beamed, expression filled with far too many teeth for comfort. They might all look human right now, but Roman was very aware that the person pinning him against the wall was anything but.

“Thank you sugar. I would take strange over being called boring any day of the week.”

Sleep hooked a finger over the arm of his glasses, dragging them down his face a little in order to get a better look at Roman. Which meant in turn, Roman finally got a better look at him. His eyes were a brilliant green. Bright and piercing, the sort that could capture the attention in an instant. Right now, it felt as though Roman was pinned in place by the power of that gaze alone and he doubted he could find the strength to move, even if he wanted to.

Roman couldn’t help but swallow once more at the sight of them. That flickering fire in the pit of his belly was still there, a fire that had grown slightly larger at the sight of such eyes.

“Although... while we are on the subject of lust... I do believe...” Sleep trailed off, eyes raking over Roman in a suggestive fashion. It made him shiver a little, although not from cold.

Once more, Roman was struck with the feeling of being prey. Although this time, it wasn’t his death that he was worried about. There were other hungers in Sleep’s eyes. The sort that Roman recognized, although not quite on such a powerful scale. He had had people look at him like that before. Mostly girls who didn’t realise that as nice as Roman was to them, he played for a completely different side.

“Are you comfortable? With who you are. With your desires, your... wants?” Sleep asked, each word slowly, carefully chosen.

That was a surprisingly nice way to ask the question without actually asking it. Roman could appreciate that at least.

“If you mean, do I accept that I’m gay, then hello? Have you seen me? I am the gay agenda thank you very much.” Roman lacked the same dramatic flair as Sleep had used, too aware of both the power the other had and how physically trapped he was. Sleep’s lips quirked into a smile.

“I did actually. Demon or no, it is never fun to out someone. Even if it's only to themselves. Not to mention Anxiety would be upset with me if I broke his toy without permission. And then he would sulk and probably stop talking to me for decades which would be so boring.”

Really, Roman knew he should be insulted about the ‘toy’ comment but he was more interested in the actual intent of the sentence as a whole. It was one thing for Virgil to protect him against those that could be threatening, like his dad. It was something else entirely for him to have apparently warned his friend - his best friend? - not to hurt Roman either.

“Vi-Anxiety would be upset if you did anything to me?” Roman asked, stumbling a little over the name. Any hope he might have had that they could move past without it being noticed was crushed by the reaction of the demon.

Sleep pounced instantly on his slip up. He looked absolutely horrified, mouth dropping open in an over exaggerated gasp.

“He told you his name... what am I saying, of course he told you his name. Anxiety wouldn’t want to upset his little Princey.”

“Princey?” Roman couldn’t help but ask. Maybe he wouldn’t be Passion. Or just Passion. Maybe he would be Curiosity. Was that hunger? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that there was far too much he didn’t know and Roman hated that. Sleep made a soft, scoffing noise, waving a hand in the air for a moment before it was back against the wall. Giving Roman no chance to duck and get away from this pinned position.

“Eh. Something Anxiety said. A name to give you that wasn’t your own. He didn’t want to... well. If it was anyone else, I would have said that my bestie just didn’t want to share you. Why give a name since it would just give someone else power over your little toy? But you and I, we know him better than that.” Sleep paused, as if waiting for Roman to challenge him and there was a faint urge to do just that. To make a comment for the sake of making one, to deny that he knew Virgil. Or perhaps deny that he wanted to know him.

This wasn’t the time for lies.

“Yes,” Sleep continued. “You and I... we know, he wouldn’t betray your trust like that. Wouldn’t want another demon to have power over you for your own sake, not his. I love him but he’s playing with fire here.”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Roman offered, feeling daring all of a sudden. He didn’t care why Virgil was apparently playing with fire by hiding his name, not when there was a chance to learn Sleep’s own. To have power over him? No, that wasn’t right, that didn’t explain the sudden surge of feelings in his chest. It was almost as if... as if... as if some part of him wanted to know more about Sleep for the sake of the demon himself. That he wanted to put a real name to his face instead of a title that sounded faintly ridiculous even in his head.

It was impossible to be completely sure thanks to the sunglasses that were pushed back over those stunning eyes but Roman was fairly confident that Sleep was more amused than anything else.

“I’ll think about it little distraction. And don’t think you can distract me like that. I’m going to have to talk to my boy about handing out his name to mortals without a second thought but that can wait for now. So yes. He would be upset if I hurt you. Therefore, I’m not going to. End of that topic.”

“Okay...” Roman wasn’t really sure what that left but he should really have known better. Sleep wasn’t done teasing him it seemed.

“Anyway, back to lust... oh honey... you’ve been kissing my little kit haven’t you?” Although Sleep phrased it like a question, it felt more like a statement. One that should be impossible to deny. Roman spluttered a little, a strange sense of hurt washing through him at the thought that Virgil had been gossiping about that behind his back. The emotion must have been clear on his face because Sleep shook his head, giving another little wave of his hands.

“Oh he didn’t tell me. He wouldn’t betray your trust like that, but it is written all over your face. Laced in your scent.” Instead of placing his hand back against the wall, Sleep actually took a step back and to the side. For the first time since the conversation had turned serious, Roman was no longer crowded by the demon.

A strange, small part of him found himself missing that. The heat from Sleep’s body, the way he had pressed so close and yet knew exactly how to stop himself from actually making any physical contact. The tease of his head as he dipped it, so tantalizingly close. The feel of his breath against his skin.

Okay. Cabin fever was getting to him. That had to be it.

Sleep hopped up onto the counter top beside him, settling into a cross legged position. His whole body was swirled so he was still facing him, but it was a nicer position than before. Roman didn’t feel quite so physically trapped and threatened. This conversation itself was a whole matter completely.

Sleep rested his chin on his knuckles, noisily sucking through the straw of some iced coffee, a fresh new drink replacing the pink. Roman had no idea where that had come from. It hadn’t been in his hands seconds ago, Roman was sure about that. Not that it really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but it was the little things that bugged him the most somehow. The tiny moments that made no sense.

“So I’m guessing you ran into another demon somehow? I mean my Anx is a delicious catch and you would be lucky beyond your tiny little dreams to be graced with his attention... but you’re a stubborn human. You didn’t just wake up one morning and smell the coffee,” Sleep mused, words aimed more at himself it seemed than at Roman.

This time, it was words that sounded like a statement and yet felt more like a question. Or an invitation to get involved. Roman had no intention of doing that. Whatever happened between himself and Virgil was no business of Sleep’s. No matter how good a friend he apparently was to Virgil. The smile on Sleep’s face grew wider, resembling a shark.

“That’s half of the story though isn’t it,” he announced, as if Roman’s silence spoke volumes. “You kissed a demon and you liked it.”

“What? No! That was Logic’s influence!” Roman replied, his desire to remain silent forgotten against the desire to justify himself. How could he have possibly enjoyed that kiss? It had been against his will, when he had been out of his mind on the high of the demon! It was god that Virgil had turned out to be decent, that he hadn’t taken advantage of Roman, but that didn’t mean he had enjoyed the kiss. Or that he wanted to kiss Virgil again. He certainly didn’t want to do that. His cheeks flushed red, Roman feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second. He almost wished they had gone back to the living room.

Yes, it would have been uncomfortable there and he would have felt terrible staring at the still form of Virgil. They probably would have gone back to the interrogation about his meeting with Deceit. But at least they wouldn’t be talking about this.

Sleep threw back his head and laughed, something wild and almost unhinged.

“Don’t play coy with me sugarplum. I mean, don’t get me wrong it's tots a cute look on you and I could just eat you all up but it won’t fly. Not with me.”

Sleep scrunched his nose up as he spoke, a delighted grin still curled on his lips. It all came across as playful and yet Roman didn’t buy the act for a second, no matter how well done it was. There was steel under the silk, the kind that could strike you down without any warning.

“So it was Logie-Bear eh? We both know Logic didn’t conjure up that hunger out of nowhere sweetie. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about after. I’m talking about when you lie awake at night, thinking about that kiss, your whole body aching with a want you don’t dare admit to. I’m talking about desire Princey.”

The way in which Sleep’s voice dipped into a throaty purr for the word desire was enough to convince Roman that he had been deadly serious when he said what sort of demon he was. There was something about his voice that felt like a caress whenever he chose. It was the kind of voice that made Roman want to just lean into it, to let the velvet tones wrap themselves around him.

He could understand suddenly, why one would sell their soul to a demon if it was presented in that voice.

“I... I... it doesn’t matter about after,” Roman said at last, words coming out with great difficulty. So what if Roman had laid awake after. If he had dreamed about the kisses over and over again. What he wanted couldn’t be real. Even if it was, Virgil saw him as a pet. How had he described it to his dad? A goldfish won at a fair.

“Of course it matters,” Sleep replied. “You want my demon. That’s very important to me.”

Was it Roman’s imagination or had Sleep’s expression turned into something less tempting when he spoke? Just for a second, just a flash of something unsettling. As if he maybe didn’t find this whole thing as amusing as he was acting. Eyes dropped to the ice coffee Sleep was holding. The cup was dented slightly, fingers curling into it with more force than was necessary, a wave of powerful emotion emanating from the demon.

“It doesn’t matter. Because no matter what I did - or didn’t - feel, he doesn’t feel the same way. He stopped the kiss, and he wouldn’t go any further. He’s a demon, if he wanted me I was right there. Offering myself on a silver platter,” Roman explained. He couldn’t help the blush that tinted his cheeks for a moment at the memory - although whether it was because he had tried to kiss Virgil or because he had been rejected, not even Roman knew.

“That’s my kit,” Sleep mused. “Too good to be a demon. Too bad to be anything else. Did it not occur to you that he stopped you because he knew you were being affected? That he didn’t want to force himself on you?”

“Of course it did. It’s what he said after. But he... he still should have done it? He’s a demon, isn’t that what he does? If he wants something, he takes it?” Roman knew even as he spoke that he was doing Virgil an injustice. His demon was none of those things, and there was just a tiny part of Roman that wished he was. At least that way Roman would be sure of what Virgil wanted, even if it had hurt. At least he wouldn’t be confused about his own feelings.

“Not him. He doesn’t exactly have oodles of self confidence to start with,” Sleep actually looked regretful as he spoke and Roman couldn’t imagine why. “He would never take without permission unless forced to, or if it was to save someone. Like I said. Too good to be a demon.”

“Is that what Deceit meant when he said I should... when he said he wanted him to be more like himself?” Roman had repeated a lot of what Deceit had said in their meeting, but Sleep had yet to explain the meaning behind any of it.

“Deceit meant a lot of things. Normally six different things and none of them are what you might first think. He is the perfect example of a trickster demon. Nothing he says can be trusted and nothing he claims to want is the whole truth.”

“Well, why did he want me to... seduce him? To get him to use his powers? I mean... what is the point?”

Sleep made a sharp little clicking sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. His fingers dug in even deeper around the coffee cup, the drink spilling over the edges. Sleep seemed oblivious to the cold liquid running down over his knuckles.

“How much has Anxiety told you about using our powers?” It hadn’t escaped Roman’s notice that Sleep was still avoiding saying Virgil’s real name. Exactly why however, he was less sure of. Because he didn’t believe Roman actually knew it? Because he didn’t know it? Because it was some taboo? So many questions. It was tempting to grab a hold of that point and get some answers but it was small fry compared to what he really wanted to ask. Sleep seemed willing to answer something big and Roman couldn’t afford to let that go to waste.

“He said that uh... demon’s don’t need to feed off mortals? They can survive just fine without it but it makes you more powerful? And that the person being... fed... from, feels the power of the demon?”

“Eh... that’s fairly accurate. And yet missing all the colourful details, my little Anx. He doesn’t know what he is missing, honestly.”

“And you do?”

“I do. You see my sweet... I don’t feed off mortals anymore...” Sleep leaned in closer, Roman becoming very aware of how easily Sleep could trap him again. The distance between them was little comfort compared to the speed he knew the demon possessed. “I used to, but that is sort of the problem of embodying Sleep as a desire... it doesn’t really combine well with ambition. And yes, feeding is a delicious thing but it creates problems of its own. The more you feed, the stronger you become. The stronger you become, the more the rest of these idiots see you as a threat. It’s exhausting.”

“So... why does Deceit want that?”

“Because of the power bit, silly.” Sleep made it sound so obvious. Maybe to another demon it was. Or even to most humans. Power was... power. It was something that the majority of people wanted in one way or another. Roman knew he wasn’t immune, he would love to have power over himself again, would love to have the power bound up in his scroll. He wanted little more than to have the strength to get out of here. That was a love of power.

“Want to know how it works?” Sleep didn’t actually give him time to answer. Gracefully, he slipped down from the counter top. The coffee cup vanished somewhere between him moving and reaching the ground, without Roma never seeing where it went. It was as though the demon had looked inside of his mind and saw the thought of just how easy it would be to crowd into Roman’s space once more. Because he did exactly that.

He still moved with that slinking grace which reminded Roman of a large cat, something deliberately aloof and lazy about the movements. But it was a studied sort of detachment, one that had clearly been carefully cultivated over time. There was a power to each movement, each moment as Sleep relished in what he could do and the reactions he clearly expected. In a matter of moments, he was pressed close to Roman once more, the smallest gap between them.

Sleep’s hand drifted up, his knuckles ever so lightly touching Roman’s cheek. It was feather light, barely there and Roman wasn’t sure if it was because of how delicate it was, or if it was simply the demon’s power at work, but the contact made him gasp slightly. Mouth parted a fraction, the faintest breath slipping free to match the faintest touch.

“First, you ensnare the mortal... catch them in your web oh so pretty. Let them feel your power. Carefully of course. Even Anxiety could do this stage without chasing away his victim. Fear might be a terrible thing but there are such things as adrenaline junkies. People who like a good fright. In the right setting a bit of fear can be... almost desirable.”

It was getting a little hard to breathe. Sleep was smiling at him. It wasn’t like the smiles of before. This wasn’t the sort that made him feel like prey, that put him on edge. There was a softness to the smile, something that transfixed Roman and made his eyes flicker down to it more than once. No matter how Roman tried to look away, he found himself glancing back to it. As if to check that the smile was real, or still there.

It was embarrassing how he was reacting to Sleep. How he was behaving like some innocent feeling a crush for the first time. Roman wasn’t this easy, and he wasn’t going to give Sleep the satisfaction.

Roman closed his eyes, overwhelmed by everything he was feeling. Which was, he realised a second too late, a mistake. It had been hard enough to handle all his emotions when he could see. In the black behind his eyelids there was no escape from the sensations that were assaulting him.

The sound of Sleep’s voice, the heat from his hand as it brushed against his cheek once more. The intoxicating mix of leather and... was that pumpkin spice? He smelt like the fall, and it took a lot of self control for Roman not to breath deeper, drawing in more.

“You let them feel it, bath it in because the more they feel, the greater your feed and in turn, the greater the... release,” Sleep whispered, his voice dropping to a breathy purr. Roman could almost imagine it, how Sleep would move even closer, how he would stop this delicious tease. Lower his lips against Roman’s skin and finally kiss. To feel those lips against him, oh what a sweet sin that would be. His cheeks were burning and Sleep’s touch had been so cool.

It would probably be a blessing if he pressed his palm properly against Roman’s cheek. Maybe Roman should nudge his face into the hand for him, let him know that such a movement would be welcome. They had been talking about consent before, and if Sleep was such a good friend as Virgil seemed to think he was, then he would probably care about those things too.

“That is what his dad wants Anxiety to feel.” Sleep’s voice sounded a lot further away all of a sudden. The hand was gone too, the heat, the scent. It had all faded away and Roman couldn’t help the soft little whine of displeasure that slipped out as he realised he was alone.

Followed by what felt like ten buckets of ice cold water being poured over his body. The heat in his cheeks was probably still there, but Roman couldn’t feel it anymore. Not while he stood so frozen, so chilled. He had thought... he had wanted... he had felt...

“What did you do!” Roman’s eyes snapped open, glaring in Sleep’s direction. It didn’t matter that the demon had retreated to the other side of the room, Roman still felt icy. Still scared because yet again, here was a demon playing with him. Twisting him all up and spitting him out in little bits on the other side.

“Oh don’t fret little one. I didn’t pop your cherry. I wouldn’t do that to him.” Sleep rolled his tongue to really draw out the the p’s of the word as he spoke

“I let you feel my power, nothing more. You haven’t been drained and I haven’t made you do anything you didn’t want to... it wasn’t a heavy dose. Not like the one Logic must have given you, it should almost have worn off already. You wanted to know why? That is why. The feeling you both would get... before you were overloaded with fear. I imagine, after a while, he’ll be able to control it so it isn’t so overwhelming but that would mean practicing and he isn’t going to do that.”

“Well it hasn’t worn off,” Roman replied. He crossed his arms, partly in disgust and partly so he had something to grip. His own biceps were better than nothing. Perhaps holding them, he could fight away the itch, the desire to move closer once more. To grab Sleep and pull him back against him. Where he belonged. Roman still didn’t know what Sleep tasted like. He still... wanted to. He wanted the feel of those cool fingers against his skin. He wanted to press Sleep against the wall and see how he liked being pinned against it.

But there was Virgil too. Roman knew how it felt to kiss Virgil and he wanted to do it again. Wanted to touch that hair and see if it was as soft as he had thought or if the fire had damaged it. Roman hoped the fire hadn’t done that. It was too pretty, too delicious to be lost in such a fashion. He wanted to draw Virgil close, to see that breathless little smile and hear the soft gasp. He wanted to be the one to lead the dance and to smile at the purple headed demon. He wanted -

Oh, he wanted it all.

He wanted them both and Roman had no idea how he was supposed to handle these feelings, fake as they were. Why would Sleep do this to him?

“Oooh...” Sleep drew out the word in a long, noisy breath. For a moment - a wild, impossible moment - Roman could have sworn that the demon looked embarrassed. Awkward. And that didn’t fit. Nothing made much sense, but that made the least sense of all.

“Yeah, that’s not me honey. Sorry.”

The realisation of what Sleep was implying hit Roman like a ton of bricks. The heat on his face flared back to life with a vengeance and he felt physically sick to his stomach.

It had to be Sleep.

Because otherwise it meant that... that Roman not only had a thing for demons, but he had a thing for two demons and that... there was no way that Roman was going to go down that road. He couldn’t desire them. There was no way this was real, not when there was literally a demon of desire in front of him who had already admitted to affecting him.

He couldn’t like either of them, not like that. Virgil maybe. At a push. Roman didn’t think it was likely, but he had to admit that it was possible. Virgil had been kind to him after all. Had looked after him. Had brought him pizza. And maybe Virgil wasn’t so bad to look at. The hair was pretty cool. And his eyes, okay the glowing when he got all worked up, was sometimes a little freaky, but they were still pretty eyes. Virgil was pretty funny too, in a dry, dark sort of way.

When they weren’t fighting - either each other, or whatever horror had decided to invade the house today - it was actually almost cool to hang out with Virgil. In the real world, they could have been friends. Roman might have had a crush on him in that situation. He certainly didn’t now.

Sleep though? Sleep he had just met. He didn’t even know Sleep’s real name and the sum total of their interactions had been Sleep questioning him relentlessly, followed by pinning him in place and giving him the demon version of a roofie. Admittedly, he had pulled away without following through on the potential threat, and he hadn’t done anything too bad... like Virgil, he could have just taken.

But that couldn’t be where the bar was.

That couldn’t be what Roman looked for in a boyfriend. Just for him to not be a complete piece of trash? There had to be more to it. And they had to not be crazy - but cute - demons that had wings and the like.

Although Virgil’s wings had been stunning. Utterly beautiful and Roman itched to see them again. He wanted to know if the feathers were as soft as they looked. Or if the crystals felt smooth and cool under his hands. Could Virgil sense someone touching them? What did it feel like to him? What was it like to fly? He wanted to know all that, he wanted to see Virgil in his demon form again but that didn’t mean he liked him or anything.

“As to why... Anxiety won’t even try. I suppose Deceit thinks if someone is willing to feel the fear then Anxiety can be nudged into going the whole way. It’s a solid enough theory I suppose,” Sleep mused, apparently oblivious to the crisis Roman was having. Or else he didn't care.

Or else he did and was secretly enjoying the whole thing. Honestly, when it came to this demon, Roman wasn’t ruling anything out. Except possibly giving in to the urge to try and throttle him. That sounded good. A way to work through this emotional meltdown.

“Sleep?” Virgil’s voice sounded from the other room, rough and uncertain.

“Anx! My darling!” Sleep turned away from Roman, but not before he could see the smile shift into some softer. Something that Roman might be tempted to describe as almost... lovey dovey.

Virgil shuffled into the kitchen, eyes instantly finding the two of them. A soft smile of his own was directed at Sleep, and it felt to Roman as if the demons had completely forgotten he was even there. Only a few days ago, Roman would have prayed and begged for a time when demons forgot he was in the room. Yet right now, he didn’t feel pleased at losing the attention. Roman wasn’t sure why his stomach dropped so heavily at the sight of the two of them gazing at each other. Roman didn’t want to think why. He knew what Sleep would say and it wasn’t an answer he wanted to indulge in.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I could sense you... well, that and you left your phone on the couch,” Virgil answered, lifting the phone as he spoke.

That made more sense. If it turned out demons could sense each other on top of everything else, Roman really thought he might lose it. There had to be a limit as to what these strange enchanting - in the bad way - creatures could do. Sleep moved closer, gathering Virgil up into a loose hug.

“I was so worried about you! What were you thinking, flying through the pits?” Sleep scolded. “I know it probably won’t kill you, but that is still super dangerous! I could have lost you kit! It’s a good thing your distraction here knows how to work a phone, otherwise the pair of you would still be on the floor.”

That was... a little harsh. Roman would have worked something out without Sleep. He was sure of it. At the mention of ‘distraction’, Virgil’s eyes lifted, meeting Roman’s gaze. Relief was clearly visible in those purple eyes, relief and... was that pleasure? Was he pleased to see Roman here? Pleased to see the two of them getting on?

“Princey? You doing okay?” Virgil sounded so worried still. Roman blamed the proximity of Sleep as to why his stomach remained full of heavy invisible stones as he watched the two of them. Virgil looked so comfortable in Sleep’s embrace. So casual and it was clear that this wasn’t a rare occurrence. Roman wouldn’t have pegged Virgil for the cuddly type.

And yet here he was. And here was Roman, not caring and not thinking about it. At all. Well. Maybe a bit. Just a bit.

“I’m fine... Sleep here was able to help... I let him in, he looked after you, and here we all are. In your kitchen,” Roman said. There was a small flutter of pleasure, a faint blush on his cheeks as he belatedly realised Virgil hadn’t used his name. Still protecting him, even against his friend.

Of course, he hadn’t used Sleep’s real name either. So maybe it didn’t mean anything. Or maybe it was Virgil protecting them both. Or maybe Roman was reading too much into something yet again.

“So... what did my dad say to you?” Virgil asked curiously. Roman bit back the groan that wanted to break free at the question as he realised he was going to have to go through the whole conversation between himself and Deceit, no doubt with many interruptions and questions.

Yet again.

Chapter Text

Roman wasn’t really sure what he expected would happen next.

Some kind of fallout obviously. Something had to happen as a result of Deceit’s visit. Some danger was hanging over them and the longer time stretched on without anything untoward happening, the twitcher he got. The only reassuring - if it could be described as that - thing was that he wasn’t the only one. Virgil was constantly on edge. And not the normal sort of edge that Roman had come to expect from a demon named ‘anxiety’. There was real heat to his actions, real worry. He flinched at every loud sound or sudden movement. He spent ages just staring out of the window, locked inside his own head.

On more than one occasion, Roman could have sworn that he heard Virgil outside his room at night. He was never there when Roman checked, but if he didn’t know better he would have thought that the demon was guarding his doorway. It was both reassuring and unsettling in equal measures. Virgil didn’t mention those night visits and so Roman didn’t bring them up either.

Sleep was - well, Sleep. He appeared relaxed and at ease no matter the situation. The large shades remained firmly on his face at all times, completely disguising any expression he might have. Or even in what direction he was looking.

The first day, Sleep announced he was moving into the house for the foreseeable future. That while Virgil and his dad were in this weird little war, Virgil would need back up.

Virgil didn’t even blink. He didn’t complain when Sleep invaded his home, he didn’t even put up a token argument about the word ‘war’. Simply shrugged and moved on. Roman never heard Sleep outside his room. He never heard Sleep in general. The demon walked. Roman had seen him walk. And yet he could never hear him move. It was as though he floated, glided through the house instead of actually using his feet. That, or he teleported.

It was a little hard to relax knowing he could turn around at any moment and there would be Sleep behind him, always with that infuriating, knowing grin.

Roman was convinced the two of them were in a relationship. There was no way they weren’t. Virgil was relaxed around Sleep in a way that Roman had never seen before. His smiles were looser, kinder. The sort of smiles that more than once Roman had caught himself wishing Virgil would send in his direction. Those thoughts he pushed away as quickly as they came, not wanting to dwell on them. What did Roman care if those two were in a relationship? It simply meant less attention on him, and that was a good thing.

If it wasn’t for the fact he felt in terrible danger every moment of his life, Roman could almost enjoy those little minutes of peace whenever they happened.

Although those moments between the two were becoming increasingly rare as the days ticked past. Virgil didn’t seem interested in watching a movie in the evenings anymore. At first he had joined Sleep and Roman. By the end of the film he would inevitably be curled up beside Sleep. Then he started declining more and more until it was just Sleep and Roman - and he was not going to curl up beside Sleep. No matter how many times Sleep patted the seat beside him with a knowing grin.

It had been nearly two weeks since Deceit’s visit. Two weeks since Sleep had moved in. A week since Roman had seen Virgil lean into Sleep and let the other demon play with his hair. Not that Roman had been looking that hard at the pair of them. He just glanced over now and then to make sure they weren’t plotting anything dastardly.

Except now, as it had been every evening last week, it was just Roman and Sleep in the living room. Sleep was sprawled out across the couch. There really was no other word for it. Roman was settled on the seat a little way away, his focus very much on the large tv and the movie that was playing and not on the annoying demon that looked way too relaxed and tempting for comfort.

The problem with it just being the two of them, was that without Virgil to cuddle or talk to, Sleep seemed to get bored easily. And a bored Sleep was one that delighted in making comments which kept Roman up into the early hours of the morning. Roman was sure he did it on purpose. That he spent ages before hand thinking up topics and comments that would drive him insane.

Tonight, there hadn’t been any but Roman could feel Sleep’s gaze on him. It made him twitchy, anxious and unable to focus on the movie. Maybe he should call it a night. It would be nice to try and get an early night's sleep and if he left before Sleep said anything, then he might even get some peace.

As if sensing those thoughts, Sleep shifted on the couch. It was a slow, very deliberate move. A stretch of limbs as he settled into a more comfortable position. Roman could hear his bones crack as he did, could almost feel the sigh of pleasure that had slipped from Sleep’s lips as if it had been against his neck. Despite his best efforts, Roman couldn’t help but look over at him.

To find Sleep was staring right back. No sunglasses. No attempt at pretending he hadn’t been staring. Just the gleam of green eyes that instantly trapped Roman in place. He never knew if this was a demon thing or just a Sleep thing, but whatever it was, it made Roman swallow, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I’m just saying,” Sleep remarked, as if they had been halfway through a conversation. “If you like him, just tell him. I know my Virgie, he will never make the first move, so it’s up to you. Forget his dad and what he wants. Focus on what you want.”

For what felt like an eternity, there was nothing but silence. It stretched out between them, something thick and almost physical. Sleep was looking at him expectantly, those green eyes all but glowing.

Don’t react, don’t react, don’t react-

It was a trap. Roman knew it was a trap. It was bait so that he would talk and then Sleep would lure him in deeper and twist everything around, leaving Roman hopelessly confused. It was best to just ignore it completely but the words kept ringing around in Roman’s head. Sleep sounded so... encouraging. As if he wanted Roman to make a fool of himself.

No, not that. As if he wanted Roman to ask the question and he thought it wouldn’t end with Roman making a fool of himself.

Sleep made a soft humming noise. A literal note of encouragement and for a split second, Roman could almost sense Sleep against his own mind, nudging him into actually giving an answer. The temptation - or pressure - was too great to resist. It was a stupid thing for Sleep to have said and the answer was just as stupid in turn.

“Why would I do that? No, back up, why would I like him?” Roman replied in disbelief. Never mind that he did sometimes think about Virgil. Never mind that he wouldn’t have necessarily minded being with him if the situation was different. Nevermind that he had occasionally wondered if he liked Sleep as well. None of that mattered.

They were in a relationship. They had to be in a relationship. Their behaviour pointed to that, everything they had done pointed to that. No, everything Virgil had done pointed to that. Sleep’s behaviour was far more confusing and hard to pin down. One moment he had been teasing and all but flirting with Roman, the next he was possessively draping himself over Virgil and now all of a sudden he was trying to encourage Roman into making a move?

“Okay, fine, let’s indulge your ridiculous fantasy for just a moment so we can be done with this. Let’s say I do like him. Why would I ever say anything? You two are together so that rules out anything else.” Roman tried so hard to keep his voice even and not betray the tsunami of emotions that wanted to engulf him. He didn’t care if they were together. He didn’t care about this conversation at all.

From the look Sleep was giving him, Roman was pretty sure he had failed spectacularly.

“Subtle, aren’t you,” Sleep told him. He twisted a little, shifting on the couch and resting his chin on his knuckles. “You could have just asked if my boy and I are a couple.”

“Well, am I wrong?” Roman challenged. This was what he needed to hear. Let it be said out loud and be done with. Virgil had said that by and large demon’s didn’t - couldn’t? - lie. That had to include Sleep. He could tease and imply all he wanted but now that roman had asked him direcly, surely Sleep had to end this stupid game he was playing. Sleep shifted uncomfortably on the coach, Roman gaining a dark and bitter sort of pleasure from it. The movement seemed to prove his theory. He could wait Sleep out. The demon had to answer, Sleep giving a low little moan and pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Sort of?”

A very familiar headache began to grow in Roman’s brain.

Of course it wouldn’t be easy. The answer wouldn’t be cut and dry because why would the world want to do anything nice for Roman? He really wished he had just not risien to the bait. He could be hiding in his room right now, pretending all of this wasn’t real but no, he was still here having this conversation. It was one that Roman didn’t want to have again. Which meant he was going to have to keep going with it now.

“I’m going to regret this, I know I am. But I’ll bite. How can you ‘sort of’ be together?” Roman asked with a heavy sigh.

“I love him,” Sleep told him. Roman waited a couple of moments but it seemed as though that was all Sleep was going to say. It explained everything about what Roman had suspected but nothing about the claim that they weren’t full together. The headache was growing stronger with every passing second.

“Right? Thus going back to the whole ‘you’re together’ thing so again, what the hell is up with sort of and if you love him, why are you trying to push me into declaring any sort of desires for him?” This time, Roman made no attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“Okay. Guess I deserved that,” Sleep rubbed at the back of his neck. It was a strangely self conscious motion for someone like Sleep. It wasn't the first time Roman had seen the action although it took a couple of moments to actually place it. Virgil would do it all the time. And it seemed as if Sleep had picked up the habit.

“I love him, he loves me but I wouldn’t say we were together in the way that most people think. I don’t think Virgil considers us a couple you see. We might kiss and cuddle and I hold him in the night, and it's all I could ever want... but I doubt Virgil has ever thought about it like that. It’s just the way it’s always been with us.”

“Have you asked?” Roman thought it was a fairly reasonable question. From the look Sleep was giving him however, apparently it wasn’t. Maybe things worked differently down here? But then why would Sleep want him to ask if that was the case? The idea that this might all be some horrible prank did pass across Roman’s mind briefly. And then was dismissed just as rapidly. Sleep wouldn’t do that to him.

Sleep might do other things, yes, he had a wicked sense of humour and he was a demon, but Roman knew he wouldn’t be cruel for no purpose. Leading him on like this only to watch him crash and burn? That would be cruel and not like Sleep at all.

“Of course not! Why would I ask? If I ask and he says no, then I will lose what I already have! If you ask and he says no, then you don’t lose anything because you didn’t have it to start with.”

That made... a weird kind of sense. Roman wasn’t sure what it said about him, that he could follow Sleep’s twisted logic. It was similar to excuses he and his friends had used during high school as they had navigated the highs and lows of being teenagers with crushes. It seemed as though things did work the same way here after all. Every time Roman thought he had a handle on how different the demons were to humans, they turned around and proved him wrong.

And then everytime Roman thought okay, that meant he could predict their behaviour based on what he knew of people, one would act in a completely alien manner and leave him as confused as ever. It was like they did it on purpose.

“But why are you pushing? You love him. Why would you want me to try and become his boyfriend? I’d be the one kissing him then, not you.” Roman was very deliberately not focusing on the other part of the problem. The one that revolved around feelings and if he had them for the purple haired demon or not.

“And I want him to be happy,” Sleep told Roman, voice deadly serious. He moved, almost flowing off the couch in one graceful movement. Roman could only watch as the demon came closer. There was a question in his eyes, a hint of hesitation as he slowed in front of Roman. Those green eyes flickered down to Roman’s lap for a moment before back up to his face. Roman could only nod dumbly in response.

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and Sleep settling down on his lap. That had been the question and Roman had given this answer. He still hadn’t quite expected Sleep to actually do it, to rest his arms at his waist, his legs on either side of his hips. Sleep sat with practised ease, with someone who knew not only laps, but Roman’s lap in particular.

They had never sat like this before, yet there was a promise in the movement if Roman allowed himself to think about it. It would be so easy for this to become the norm.

“Anyway, who said I would let you have him on your own? Or vice versa.” Sleep’s voice was still serious, the demon still wearing that smile. One that wasn’t teasing or tempting, but simply... pleased.

Vice... versa?

Sleep couldn’t possibly be suggesting what Roman thought he was suggesting. There was no way that he meant... that. No way.

Except there wasn’t a hint of mockery or amusement in Sleep’s eyes. He was actually letting Roman see his eyes for this whole conversation and that, as Roman had quickly come to learn, was something very rare indeed. Virgil had even gone so far as to comment that Roman should feel blessed, and that you could count on one hand the number of people he was willing to do that for. Roman wasn’t ready to go that far yet, but he had to admit it did bring a flush of warm pleasure to him knowing that Sleep was willing to do that for him.

Roman could feel his face grow hotter and hotter as the meaning of Sleep’s word sank in.

It wasn’t enough for Sleep to encourage him to try and date a literal demon, he was now saying Roman should date... two? That he might actually want Roman? Was Sleep implying he would ask Roman out? Or that Roman should ask Sleep out?

Roman was not equipped to deal with this.

Sleep was very attractive. Roman just wasn’t sure how much of that thought was his own and how much was any left over power that the demon had filled him with. How could Roman trust any of his own thoughts and wants when Sleep was a desire demon? When he had admitted in the past he could take almost any little stray thought or buried nugget in Roman’s psyche and make it be the only thing he could focus on?

Roman wanted to be able to trust his feelings, but he didn’t know how to. Not after everything that had happened and was still happening.

Such as the way Sleep was still sitting on Roman’s lap. Still without his shades, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. One of Sleep’s hands was moving in a slow, circular motion, just tracing along Roman’s side. It made him shiver a little, arching into the touch without thought.

“I’m not doing anything,” Sleep promised, the words bringing him out of the haze a little. Enough for Roman to lift an eyebrow, another shiver running through him at the touches.

“Okay, I’m not doing anything that only a demon can do. Don’t sell yourself short Princey. He likes you. It could be good.”

Roman opened his mouth, cheeks still burning. To say... what exactly? His mind was blank, little more than a dialling tone and the feel of each finger as it brushed against his side. All he knew was that this felt good. If this was what Sleep was offering then it couldn’t be all bad.

“Hey...” Virgil’s voice sounded from the doorway, shattering the spell. Roman all but pushed Sleep off his lap, suddenly hyper aware of his position. The demon slid off with a startled expression on his face and it wasn’t fair that he even managed to make that look good. To act as though it was a deliberate choice on his part to get off and not a knee jerk reaction from Roman.

“Kit!” Sleep exclaimed, jumping up from the ground and moving swiftly over to him. “How are you feeling? You manage some sleep girl?”

“Mm yeah. No.” Virgil looked around the room, his gaze bounding from place to place without staying anywhere too long. For a moment it rested on Roman. Those beautiful purple eyes - and Roman could at least admit they were aesthetically pleasing - didn’t seem focused. They were looking at him yes but at the same time Roman was pretty sure Virgil wasn’t actually seeing him. That he wasn’t seeing much of anything. “I just... wanted to check. You good? You both... good?”

“We’re fine,” Sleep promised, not giving Roman a chance to say anything. Virgil nodded absently, swaying a little as if caught in a nonexistent breeze. The longer he stood there, the worse he looked. As if anything might knock him down and once it did, he wouldn’t get back up. Already pale skin was almost ashen, those eyes sunk low into his face. It made his cheekbones that much more pronounced and while that was good, the whole effect just made Roman worry. Virgil didn’t look healthy.

“Good... that’s... good.” Virgil stumbled back out of the room without another word, Sleep staring after him, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

Roman wasn’t sure what to say either. It seemed stupid to point out how terrible Virgil had looked. And he certainly didn’t want to go back to the previous topic. Or the previous seating arrangements. It would be wrong to relax and talk about such things after they had both seen the state Virgil was in.

And, belatedly, Roman thought, because he didn’t want what Sleep was offering. Of course that was the most important reason.

“Ok, My kit is about to snap. Time for old’ Sleep to work his magic. You, uh, might want to... hmmm no...” Sleep trailed off, expression a mixture of thoughtfulness and frustration. Roman could emphasise with those emotions. It seemed like yet again, they were going to be having a conversation that only one of them really understood.

“I might want to, what?” Roman snapped and no. No, he refused to act like this any longer. If Sleep wanted him to do something, then he was going to have to not only explain what he wanted, but why he wanted it. Especially if Sleep had been serious about anything they had talked about before. Roman wasn’t going to be led around by the nose, wasn’t going to jump when told. There had to be more here than that.

Sleep shrugged gracefully, spreading his hands out in what was probably meant to be a peaceful gesture. Those green eyes shone all the brighter.

“I don’t feed from humans anymore. Haven’t for a long time. And demon’s, well, we don’t really feed from other demons. It’s not like... its against any sort of law or anything, but you don’t get the same... energy? Or taste. Most demons would compare it to eating tofu or something flavourless to the rich succulent delight of a moral.” Sleep explained. Roman hummed softly, turning over the information in his mind. At first glance, it was useful to understand the dynamics of the underworld as a whole but it didn’t really say what Sleep wanted from him right now.

It made humans that much more appealing down here, and if they really did ‘taste’ as good as that, it was no wonder the other demons were fighting over him. But from the way Sleep had phrased it...

“You feed from him,” Roman guessed. To his relief, Sleep nodded and finally. Something he could predict, something he almost understood. Something he had guessed right.

“It started when we were... younger. It was a way to relax him. You get hit with a dose of desire and then fed from, it's more like... a massage, some good drugs, the buzz of alcohol all rolled into one. It doesn’t give me more power, just maintains my level. Which is all I want. And it gets him out of his head.”

It sounded sweet when Sleep put it that way. As well as exceedingly tempting which was probably the whole point. To be enjoying a gentle high like that? To be able to relax, to not be burdened by all the fears that life threw at you? It had to be even more intense for Virgil, since he seemed at times to be nothing but a collection of fear and stress in human form.

Where did Roman come into all of this however? Did he want Roman out of the way? Roman to keep quiet? What did he expect from Roman that he was willing to tell him something that felt at least as though it was meant to be highly personal.

“I’m Remy,” Sleep said suddenly.

“What?” Roman couldn’t help but gape at Sleep and that sounded an awfully lot like a name. A name that he wasn’t supposed to know, because names were the most powerful form of control around here. A currency that enabled them to get the power they wanted. Sleep gave a huff and pulled his sunglasses from where they had been sitting nestled in his hair. He fiddled with the arms of them, looking for all the world as if he was the nervous one here.

Yet he didn’t put them on. Roman was sure that the temptation was there. If he had a way to hide away part of himself, of course he would use it down here. Moreso if he was having a difficult conversation. Sleep simply played with them, fingers dancing and twisting, apparently of their own accord.

“Look. Virgil is going to be relaxed but he’ll also be... vulnerable. He’ll need help and if this has any chance of actually working, he needs to know that you’re safe. That we’re... good. So I'm trusting you, distraction. No pressure, no bargain, no deal. I’m not asking for your name, I’m just telling you mine and believing that you won’t do anything with it. Because he believes in you. So, my name is Remy.”

“Thank you Remy... that helps,” Roman said. He couldn’t help but be a little stunned by the revelation, by the trust and faith that Sleep - no Remy - was putting on him.

For a moment, he battled with the temptation of returning the favour. It was only right that Remy should know his name, since he knew his. Even the playing field as it were. Roman wasn’t really sure what he could actually do with the name and he didn’t want to find out.

No. Not yet. Not until he was sure. He had to know how Sle- how Remy would react to being in such a position. He needed to know it wasn’t a trick. That this had been a genuine gift.

How many more times was Roman going to test one of them before he could allow himself to trust that these two weren’t out to hurt him?

At least this time it seemed.

“Good, good,” Remy breathed out, relaxation on his features. Sunglasses were slid back into place and he certainly didn’t seem annoyed that Roman hadn’t shared. Of course now he had those shades back on, it was hard to be certain of anything to do with Remy’s emotions.

“I’m going to go... do it then. When we’re done, could you get some food heated up? He’ll finally be willing to eat I think. Boy needs it.”

“Sure,” Roman replied and it seemed an easy thing to do. There had to be something he could cook and if not, he could just use the weird hell fridge to ask for something. Virgil liked pizza. It seemed to be one of his favourite foods and Roman couldn’t help but want to make sure it was a good meal. A tempting one. Almost is if Roman wanted to tempt Virgil in his own right.

He shook his head, trying to physically dislodge those thoughts. In the time it had taken him to think of pizza, Remy, had already left the room. Roman could hear the sound of voices down the hallway. He hesitated for a moment, biting at his bottom lip. Remy hadn’t exactly said he couldn’t see what was going on... it was private, it was personal, but Roman couldn’t help but be so curious as to what ‘feeding’ actually meant.

He pulled open the door. Just a fraction, just enough to be able to peer out with one eye.

As expected, Virgil and Remy were a little way down the hall. Remy stood with his back to Roman, making it impossible to see his face. Virgil was facing him at an angle, his attention wholly fixed on the other demon. Roman was sure that for possibly the first time since they had known each other, Virgil honestly had no idea he was there.

Virgil was leaning against Remy. The other demon had his hands in Virgil’s hair, lazy gentle strokes. Even from this distance, they made Roman feel relaxed. If that was how he felt, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how good Virgil felt. Virgil’s eyes were half closed, all his features going slack as he leaned into the touch. A gentle nudge of his head reminded Roman of the way a cat would demand more attention, headbutting against you.

As he watched, Remy gently tilted Virgil’s face upwards with his free hand, those long pale fingers brushing against Virgil’s cheek. Another soft murmur came from Remy, too quiet for Roman to make out anything other than the sound itself.

Remy dipped his head, lips pressed against Virgil’s own.

Roman pulled back and quietly shut the door. He had seen enough. It didn’t feel right to watch any further. Perhaps some part of him had always known that it would be a deeply personal moment but had ignored it because he had wanted to see. He had let his own hunger, his own curiosity get the better of him. It hadn’t been right of Roman. And now his mind was filled with images.

Less than a minute later, he heard the creak of floorboards as the two moved past the closed door. Another quiet whisper of voices that grew fainter and fainter as they headed up the stairs and away from him.

Roman stood frozen for a moment before violently shaking his head. Anything to get out now not only the thought that he wanted a little of what they had, but also imagining how it would feel if Remy brushed his fingers against his cheek or Virgil pressed his lips against his own.

This was the ‘sort of’ relationship that Remy spoke of? The one where he thought Virgil didn’t know about? Roman had seen Virgil’s face. He had seen the trust, the calm, the love there. It was as plain as the nose on his face that Virgil was deeply in love with his best friend.

Which meant there was absolutely no chance for Roman.

Not that he wanted a chance. And he was ignoring Remy’s suggestion that there could be three, that liking one didn’t close the door to the other. Roman still wasn’t ready to process that. He was also ignoring his own mind and the way it kept trying to return to the two demons. To whatever they were doing upstairs.

Roman wasn’t a sweet innocent baby. He knew full well what they had to be doing upstairs.

And he was not thinking about it. At all.

Aside from the way he was thinking about it despite every effort not to. Food. He was meant to be getting food. Virgil would be hungry after - well Virgil would be hungry once calm. Roman had some pizza to cook.

---

He had just cut up the pizza when he heard them coming back down the stairs. Which was a relief in and of itself, Roman hadn’t been sure what he was going to do once the food was ready. He had run through all sorts of ideas in his head, from leaving it to go cold for whenever they showed up, to sneaking up the stairs and leaving it in front of Virgil’s door.

They had saved him the effort of having to pick by coming back perfectly on time. But that created its own set of problems, namely what he was meant to do now. Roman felt awkward at the thought of being in the same room as them. It was just like his first few nights here all over again. Unsure of where he stood, or where he wasn’t supposed to be and what he was supposed to do.

The door opened before Roman could think much further on it. Even from his position through the open door into the kitchen, Roman could see the way they entered. Virgil was slotted into place against Remy, the two moving as far as the couch. Virgil unceremoniously flopped himself down on it. That felt like his cue.

Gathering up the plates of cheesy goodness, Roman moved into view.

“Hey Princey,” Virgil mumbled, looking up at his arrival. Virgil certainly looked more relaxed than he had been a little while ago.

“Virgil.” Roman couldn’t help the small, fond smile creep on his face at the sight of the demon. He had almost forgotten how good it was, to see Virgil in a state that wasn’t pain, fear or constant vigilance.

“Oh, pizza,” Remy broke in, grabbing hands towards the plates. Roman rolled his eyes at the antics but even that felt lighter than before. It was all very confusing. Awkwardly, Roman passed Remy the two plates, keeping one for himself and retreating towards his usual seat.

“Come, sit with us. You never sit with us,” Virgil complained out of the blue. He turned, food forgotten. Roman squinted at him, for a moment unsure of what he was seeing. It looked, for all the world, like a pout. But it couldn’t be. Virgil didn’t... pout. And he certainly didn’t pout at the idea of Roman sitting apart from them.

“You always sit over there and it isn’t fair. R- Sleep sits with me. He’s a good pillow. Why won’t you sit with us?” Virgil stumbled over the words a little, edging around the topic of names. How strange. It seemed as though Remy hadn’t told Virgil what he had done.

A small, dark part of him whispered of course he wouldn’t tell. They had some alone time together and the last thing Remy was going to do was talk about the human they had locked up. Roman took a deep breath and very firmly pushed that part of him as far away from his conscious decision making as possible.

“Remy told me his name Virgil. I haven’t told him mine yet,” Roman explained. Virgil grinned, his whole face lighting up.

“Oooh. Secrets and truths. I love it. I mean it though. Come sit with us?”

Roman had considered himself mentally strong. He had withstood the horror of learning his parents had apparently sold him at birth. He had survived being dragged down to hell with his eyes open. He had faced down the demons Logic and Deceit, and lived to tell the tale. Yet none of that strength felt evident when he was faced with the sight of Virgil’s pleading gaze.

“I guess I could...” Roman muttered after a couple of moments, annoyed with himself and his sudden weakness. “If, uh Remy is cool with it.”

“I’m always cool distraction. Come. Sit.” Remy waved a hand towards the space next to Virgil. Annoyingly, the glasses were firmly back on his face and Roman had no clue what he was actually thinking. If he was pleased or annoyed, or some weird combination of the two.

Roman settled himself on the edge of the couch, his back ramrod straight, every inch of him tense and ready to jump off again at the slightest hint he wasn’t welcome. This felt wrong, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Sitting so stiff, so awkward when he could be relaxing somehow. All Roman really knew was that he wished this wasn’t happening, a vague feeling of disappointment and... something that felt a lot like jealousy stirring in the pit of his stomach.

“Relax sugarplum. Virgil isn’t going to bite... not right now anyway.”

“Remy!” That... that was definitely a whine. Virgil had just whined Remy’s name like he was some petulant teenager. Roman turned a little to look at them. Virgil was staring at him with what he could only describe as puppy dog eyes. They were wide and pleading, and Roman couldn’t help the knee jerk reaction that stirred within him, the desire to do anything he could in order to make that sad look go away.

“He is right, you should relax.”

“Okay.” Again, Roman caved to Virgil’s wishes, his reward a soft smile. Virgil even let him see it for a few seconds longer than normal before lifting a hand to cover it, as though embarrassed. Once again, Roman did what Virgil wanted. It wasn’t the same as those times Virgil had held his soul scroll and given commands - Roman had felt that, as if something had been raking thick nails across his mind. This was something a lot more natural, more familiar. It reminded him of when Seb had smiled at him across the hall. Or when Seb had laughed and the sound had lit up the world in more colours than even Roman could describe.

Roman had thought he had loved Seb for a whole summer. What a glorious summer it had been. When he got to bask in looks and shy kisses. When they had held hands and exchanged all manner of secrets and hopes under a warm cloudless sky. When his greatest concern had been what to get for his boyfriend’s birthday.

It hadn’t lasted but Roman didn’t bear any grudges. The two of them just hadn’t fit together, not in a way that could work beyond the flush of those first few weeks. They were still friends and at the end of the day Roman would take that over a relationship that had grown false and brittle. He still loved Seb, even though it had moved into something different. Not lesser - Roman would defend that concept to the death and just ‘because’ the love he and Seb shared was platonic, it didn’t mean it wasn’t as important as romantic. Just... different.

Like the way Virgil made him feel different. Virgil smiling at him made him feel that same heady mix of emotions, butterflies in his stomach and hope pounding through his bloodstream as it had in the first weeks of dating Seb.

Oh god.

He had a crush.

He actually had a crush on Virgil. It wasn’t just Remy being his usual chaotic self, but Roman actually had feelings for Virgil. Ones that went beyond hate or fear. Or the begrudging friendship that had started between the two of them. It went far beyond the growing real friendship that followed on and really Roman should have probably listened to the desire demon when he had told him that this was what he felt. It had just seemed too ridiculous. Too impossible.

Then again, when did Roman ever care about what was possible or not?

He had a crush. On a literal demon. Who was still smiling at him from behind his hand, eyes crinkling up into a soft, amused expression. Simply because Roman had agreed to sit beside him and oh. Oh, Roman was in real trouble here. Not the sort of trouble that he would have expected when he had first been dragged down into hell but despite that, it still felt a lot more dangerous. Maybe because Roman had survived crushes before and knew the havok they could wreak.

Maybe because Roman still wasn’t sure where Remy fit into all of this and he came across as a rather possessive demon.

Roman could feel his head spinning as he slid back onto the couch and tried to settle comfortably there. His head was spinning, his mind reeling with the idea that he like liked Virgil.

Remy gave a soft, wordless chuckle. Something knowing and pointed. Roman couldn’t help but wonder if he actually knew what Roman had just worked out or if he was merely laughing at something else by coincidence. When it came to Remy, Roman had rapidly realised that anything was possible.

“I saw your stuff in your room...” Virgil mumbled. His head flopped around a little, apparently undecided on whose shoulder he was going to rest on. Roman wished it would be his. “All the music and acting stuff? I didn’t look properly, but I saw it. Is that... is that what you wanted from life? Before... before I ruined it?”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Roman answered automatically. Shocking realisation of his crush or no, Virgil was still his friend and Roman wasn’t going to let him go around carrying even more guilt. Virgil had done nothing but help him since he had gotten here and while yes, still technically holding him against his will - a traitious little voice whispered he wouldn’t mind it if Virgil held him - but he was doing his best in a really terrible situation.

Virgil merely raised an eyebrow in disbelief, his body half slumped against Remy and Roman was ignoring the smug smile he could see over Virgil’s purple hair. This wasn’t a competition. He wasn’t going to treat it like one, he wasn't going to act as though Virgil was some prize. As much as Roman wanted to be the one that Virgil rested against, he wasn’t going to lower himself to those standards. Virgil deserved better.

Remy’s smile softened a fraction. Roman really hoped he couldn’t read minds. Hoped instead that he was just imagining the softening, or even the smugness to start with. There were more important things to focus on, Roman pushing ahead stubbornly, determined to make Virgil see the truth of the matter.

“You didn’t. Your dad did. Maybe... maybe my parents did a little... but um. Yes. It wasn’t you Virge. All you’ve done is try and make this bearable for us both. I believe you when you say that if you could, you’d let me go. I do Virgil, I promise. This isn’t your fault.”

“Listen to your distraction,” Remy told Virgil after a couple of seconds of silence. “Seems like he has brains as well as beauty, and if he doesn’t blame you, then you have to stop blaming yourself.”

“I’m as likely to do that as you are to not flirt with everyone you see. You think Princey’s beautiful eh?” Virgil tilted his head backwards, looking up towards Remy with a smile that was far too soft and sweet to be allowed. Roman couldn’t help but notice that Virgil didn’t try to hide those smil- nope, still not a competition.

“I do,” Remy replied as though admitting such a thing was easy. “He is a delight to spend time with but I promise not to be bad. Unless he asks me to of course.”

Roman swallowed heavily and one crush was more than enough to deal with, thank you very much. He wasn’t anywhere close to wanting to think about Remy like that, or deal with Remy in that sort of mood.

“What about my stuff anyway?” Roman asked, more to pull the subject away from himself and Remy before the desire demon did something ridiculous than anything else. Virgil twisted a little to look back at him, gaze unguarded and hopeful.

“Can I hear you sing? Please?” It was such an innocent request but it made something inside of Roman grow warm and pleased. If it had been asked only a week ago, Roman would have felt the need to push and needle. To ask what would happen if he said no. Maybe even to bring up the soul contract, just to see how Virgil would react.

Now though, he met those wide, trusting eyes and realised it had just been a question. An attempt to get to know him better. Maybe, just maybe because Virgil liked him back. Roman wished and hoped that he liked him back, even if some part of him knew he probably only saw Roman as ‘the human’ and little else.

“Yeah. I’d like that. After we’ve eaten and you’ve had a nap though, it’s going to blow your socks off so you need to be ready.”

Virgil looked down, wiggling his feet thoughtfully.

“Okay, well, if we’re done with flirting with everyone, the food is getting cold,” Remy announced. Roman couldn’t help the way his heart beat all the faster when Virgil didn’t deny he had been flirting. It was ridiculous, he was falling head over heels into crush mode simply because he had allowed himself to admit that there were actually feelings.

Denial at least had kept him from having an irregular heartbeat.

Roman sighed softly and bit into his pizza. There was no point worrying about it now. He couldn’t put the genie back into the bottle, he couldn’t un-work out that he had a crush on Virgil. Roman didn’t want to either, no matter how much easier life might be because of it.

There was a knock at the door.

Roman froze mid bite. The pizza suddenly tasted rancid, greasy in his mouth. He could feel himself gagging on it a little, a delicious treat turned disgusting and wrong. The two next to him had frozen as well, Virgil’s eyes wide and worried.

“I’ll get it,” Remy said grimly as the knock sounded again. With his usual practised elegance, Remy shimmed out of the loose embrace and stretched himself out in front of them. His shirt rode upwards as he did, revealing a flash of skin that was not helping matters. Remy lowered his arms, shaking them slightly, head rocking from side to side. As if gearing himself up for something, Roman realised.

“Stay here Virge. Princey, remember what I said,” Remy ordered. There was no hint of his usual light tone, no amusement, no flirting. A serious Remy was not something Roman was used to - or something he liked. He couldn’t help but miss the teasing expression and words, the hints of going further. This Remy was more like the sort of demon he would have imagined existed before all of this started. Someone stern and scary.

Virgil slumped sideways and face planted into the couch where Remy had been sitting moments before. He made no effort to follow Remy though. Whatever Remy had actually done to feed from him had clearly drained Virgil of a lot more than just his stress. Virgil would never have just sat by like some damsel in distress if he was in full possession of his facilities.

Which meant, just as Remy had reminded him, it was up to Roman. He had to look after Virgil, although exactly what Remy expected him to do was beyond Roman. He was a human and nothing more. Roman wasn’t even sure if he would know when he was supposed to do something. All Roman had to go on was that desire to protect Virgil. It would have to do.

Roman couldn’t help but move to the door of the living room. Just to peer through it and down the corridor to where Remy had just reached the front door. At least this way Roman could watch what was happening. Any information he could get would be helpful, hopefully.

So long as it wasn’t Deceit. Although Remy probably wouldn’t let him in if that was the case. Remy had muttered quite a few threats towards Deceit over the past week, something that a dark part of Roman couldn’t help but hope would come to pass. Except not now there was actually the possibility of seeing the yellow eyed demon once more. Remy pulled the door open, Roman holding his breath as he waited to see what was on the other side.

“Hi Kiddo!”

Chapter Text

Hell had no shortage of surprises.

Everyday seemed to bring with it a whole host of them, twisting and subverting everything that Roman had thought he knew or could assume about demons, the underworld, and his new existence. From the wonder that was Virgil to the question mark that was Remy, back to the chill that was Deceit - and how could someone like that, have a child like Virgil? It made no sense. There was all of that and more beside, the fridge that always knew what he wanted to eat, or the windows that could show any view on earth.

Then there was the man standing in the doorway, who looked roughly the same age as Roman. He was beaming brightly, something so warm and honest in that smile that Roman wanted to soften on it alone. Freckles kissed his skin, patches of dark against otherwise paleness. They trailed from his nose along his cheekbones and then down the side of his neck. Little marks as though left by ants, busy little trails that showed this was someone special. Or so his mother had always said. Freckles were a sign that you had been touched by nature.

It made him feel slightly less bad about his own. They were normally hidden by his tan, although that had to be fading down here.

But if this other man could wear freckles so proudly, then perhaps Roman could too. His mother treasured her own, just as she loved his, tracing the patterns and telling him all manner of stories as to what each design meant. Roman had loved that about them when he was a kid. As he aged, he had grown more self conscious about them but perhaps down here, he could try and overcome that if nothing else.

“Sleep, it’s so good to see you! It’s been far too long!” The man was still beaming brightly. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, thin frames of his glasses doing nothing to disguise it. Hand lifted to play for a moment with a strand of long, black as coal hair before he thrust it out towards Remy, offering it to him to shake. Remy didn’t take it.

“M.” A single letter and yet there was so much emotion wrapped up in it. Anger, confusion, mistrust and... was that fear? Roman wouldn’t have thought that it was possible for Remy to be scared of anyone. He had seemed more the type to go into an icy rage when confronted with something like that, just as he had done at the mention of Deceit. Not to let a tremor of terror slip into his voice.

“M? Morality’s here?” Virgil’s voice in his ear made him jump and Roman hadn’t even heard him move. Roman really needed to get the demon's bells or something, because all this sneaking up behind him was not helping his heart. Roman was already on edge because of this new stranger, the last thing he needed was Virgil making him have a heart attack. Not even the fun kind of heart attack.

Virgil pushed past him, wriggling out before Roman could so much as think to protest and so much for him looking after the demon.

“Morality! Come on in,” Virgil said enthusiastically.

Remy rolled his eyes and gave an annoyed huff but stepped to the side and let the dark haired man enter the hallway. This was just getting weirder and weirder. Remy was scared of him, but Virgil... wasn’t? Virgil. The little stress ball that snapped at pretty much everything. Wasn’t worried about something when his friend was?

It couldn’t just be the effect of Remy feeding from him. It hadn’t changed who Virgil was, just relaxed him and relaxed or no, he wouldn’t treat someone he feared like that. There was no way Remy would have gone that far and put Virgil in that kind of danger. Roman might not know Remy very well yet and he might still have a lot of questions and uncertainties about the demon but one thing he knew without a shadow of a doubt was that Remy adored Virgil. If this Morality was truly a danger then Virgil should have some reaction.

“Anxiety, it’s so good to see you! I’m sorry about the other week, you know how he gets sometimes,” Morality said. Virgil lifted a hand in the air, giving a dismissive little shrug as he did.

“Eh, don’t mention it. He was just doing what any demon would, I suppose. But he better not do it again. I won’t let him hurt what’s mine.”

There was a conversation going on here that Roman didn’t understand. Something that was not being said and yet apparently understood by everyone else around him. It was the sort of conversation that happened a lot around here, but that didn’t make it any easier for Roman to cope with it. Especially since Roman couldn’t help but feel that they were talking about him. Morality laughed softly, head bobbing up and down.

“Well, I can’t speak for him, but I’m pretty sure he won’t try that again. It would be against the rules to steal wouldn’t it. And you know how my L feels about rules...” Morality trailed off, sighing softly. It almost sounded regretful, some part of Roman latching onto it. There was a puzzle here. Honestly, there were so many puzzles here. Layers upon layers like an over the top cake, you kept pressing the fork down only to find more waiting.

A rainbow cake and each colour meant something new.

Roman refused to use the more obvious comparison. It was a low hanging fruit and so to be avoided. Plus, the last thing he wanted was disgusting onions in his min- ah. Roman realised what he had done there. He had to stop allowing his mind to wander so freely, not where there were so many important things he needed to focus on.

Back to the problem at hand. The mention of an L, of rules, of stealing. There was something there, something on the tip of Roman’s tongue. As if he knew the answer already and just needed the key to actually get access to it.

Morality glanced past Virgil, warm blue eyes finding Roman. There was no grip in those eyes, no compulsion of the sort that he had grown used to when it came to demons. Just a friendly warmth, a clear gaze that seemed designed to be trustworthy.

They almost glowed nevertheless. They were so bright. Roman would have said unnaturally so but what was natural down here?

“Oh and this must be the man of the moment. Hello kiddo, it’s wonderful to meet you at last. As you probably guessed, I’m Morality.” He offered his hand again, this time towards Roman. Behind him, Roman could see Remy slowly close the door. The desire demon’s jaw was clenched tightly together, a vein throbbing there.

Perversely, a little dark part of Roman almost liked that Remy was so put out by the whole situation. It was about time that he didn't have everything going his way. That little whisper of spitefulness gave Roman the courage to reach out and accept the hand. Virgil hadn’t tried to stop him and anyway, there had never been any spoken rules about touching another demon. It was just a handshake.

“Morality? What kind of name is that for a demon?” Roman asked. Deceit he understood, and Anxiety. Even Sleep made sense in a way, once he had explained it. But Morality? How could a sense of morality be considered a sin or a temptation?

Morality was something good... wasn’t it? You needed a strong sense of morality in order to do the right thing and that was so rarely what you actually wanted to do. It was never easy and more often than not, wasn’t fun, but it was the right thing. The painful thing. That didn’t fit into any of the rules Virgil had used to explain how this world works.

“Oh no, M here is as human as you,” Virgil explained. He moved back to stand next to Roman, ever so subtly leaning against him. Roman couldn’t control his heart, the tratrious little fast beat as he felt Virgil’s warmth seeping into his side. It could be Virgil subtly letting Morality know that Roman bleonged to him, that apparent friend or no, he was willing to protect him. Or it could just be that Virgil felt woozy from the feed still and trusted Roman enough to know that he could lean against him.

The fact was, it didn’t matter which was right. Because both of them were possibilities to make his heart sing. Protecting or trusting, they were both hopeful states, both leading to the thought that maybe Remy was right and Virgil actually liked him back.

No matter how sternly Roman tried to tell his heart off, it didn’t want to listen. Didn’t want to be caged but instead just to sing free about the purple haired demon and how cute he looked nestled against him.

Things had been so much easier before. Why did Roman have to work out that he had a crush now of all times? Why couldn’t it have been at night, when he was lying in his bed so he could do the dramatic shooting upright and staring in shock at the wall? Roman had seen the romantic movies, he knew how it was supposed to go. If he was going to have some dramatic reveal about his crush, then it was supposed to happen the proper way. Not eating pizza while Virgil was pressed up against him, with a probably jealous desire demon on the other side.

“That’s right kiddo,” Morality said, his cheerful voice dragging Roman back to the present and the matter at hand. The new person. “I’m just another human soul, like you!”

Another human? Roman had known, of course, that there were other humans imprisoned down here. Virgil had mentioned them indirectly, more than once. Through talking of the pits or mentioning how much worse things could have been for Roman, all the way to the simple fact that demons fed off human souls like they were delicious afternoon snacks.

Somehow, Roman still hadn’t expected to actually meet one. At least not like this. Morality didn’t appear to be in any sort of distress or pain. He wasn’t at the beck and call of another demon and if this was home, Roman would have assumed he was just another teenager ready to start college and see the world.

“He belongs to Logic,” Remy snapped. His whole body was a taut wire, looking one wrong word away from snapping completely. Roman didn’t want to see what would happen if he did. “He’s Logic’s personal human, his favourite.”

“Aww thank you Sleep! I do my best, it means so much that you think that. Logic told me you had a new friend Anxiety. I wanted to come and see him. I thought he had to be really confused and overwhelmed by everything.” Morality’s voice dipped, shifting into something that Roman wanted so badly to believe was honest concern. “I know you have to be doing your best Anxiety but there are some things that would be better coming from another human, someone who has gone through the same thing.”

“I don’t trust him,” Remy said bluntly. “He’s human. Human’s lie. There are any number of reasons why he’s come to see us, and I don’t believe he did it out of the kindness of his heart.”

“Okay. Name one?” Virgil asked, lifting an eyebrow. Roman blinked a couple of times, and Virgil was... what, siding with Morality over Remy? His best friend? The demon he cared for? Virgil had never mentioned any other friends beside Remy, let alone another human soul and yet he seemed so relaxed around him. Remy gave a huff, clicking his fingers together a couple of times as he did.

“Well.. maybe he’s come to spy on us. So Logic can steal your distraction away, you did say Logic was intrigued. You know Logic isn’t going to just give up on something if he wants it.”

“Logic wouldn’t steal. Not after knowing that he belonged to me. He might be a demon, but in his own way he is honest,” Virgil replied. Remy gave another noise, this time a strangled huff.

“Don’t worry kiddo, I don’t have any powers or anything like that. Nothing to fear from me. You can call me M if you like, it's less of a mouthful than Morality.” Morality offered, words directed at Roman and Roman alone.

“Princey,” Remy said, answering before Roman could, and Roman wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not.

“I thought he said he didn’t have any powers? Why can’t he know my actual name?”

“He doesn’t. But he belongs to Logic, Princey. Which means anything he knows, Logic is bound to find out. Be careful what you say to him, he might smile and act all innocent and friendly, but you don’t survive down here as long as he has with someone like Logic, without knowing a few tricks yourself.” Remy was almost shaking with some form of repressed emotion. Roman couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened in the past to make Remy so distrustful of Morality.

Remy looked away from Morality at last, shaking his head slightly as he - so Roman assumed - fixed him with a stare from behind those large black shades.

“Plus, it's just good sense. Never give your name, come on, we’ve been over this, little distraction. It’s a good habit to get into, you never know who might be listening in.”

“He’s standing right here Sleep,” Morality pointed out mildly. He didn’t appear offended by the speech though, merely smiling brightly. “Sleep’s right though, you shouldn’t tell anyone your real name. I’m so pleased Anxiety gave you one you can use and it's such a cool one!”

“I thought it might be nice for Princey to talk to another human soul. That’s the only reason I’m here Sleep. Honest.” Morality clasped both hands together in a pleading gesture.

“Let them talk Sleep,” Virgil mumbled, one hand lightly rubbing at the back of his neck. It was a familiar gesture, something Roman clung to because at least it was something he knew. Virgil was feeling awkward. Guilty. Unsure. “Morality can’t do any harm in my home, not on his own. And he’s right... Princey should talk to someone like him. Someone who... hasn’t hurt him.”

Roman opened his mouth to deny that, to promise once again that Virgil hadn’t hurt him before snapping it shut again. Anything he said that Morality heard could be repeated to Logic. Maybe he didn’t have any devious plans, but if Logic asked, he would certainly tell. Roman didn’t want something personal like that getting back to the cold demon. It was something for the three of them alone.

“Fine,” Remy said at last. “You two can go into the kitchen, we’ll be in the living room. I’m still watching you Morality.”

Roman would have preferred to have gone to his bedroom, where at least it was comfortable. Where there were no memories of being pressed against countertops and oh so nearly kissed. Still, it was safer, to be within shouting distance of Virgil and Remy. Just in case. It was nice to know that Remy cared enough to insist he remain close by. It almost made Roman think he cared.

The two of them moved into the kitchen, Morality instantly heading to the fridge, humming a soft tune to himself.

“Would you like a hot chocolate Princey? Even big bad Sleep out there can’t say no to my hot chocolates. He acts like a grumpy bear but he’s a softie at heart.”

“Um... sure? So. Sleep said... You’ve been down here a long time?” Roman wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking. There was so much he could ask within those words, so much he wanted to know. How long was a long time? Morality pulled back from the fridge, ice cold milk in his hand.

“Oh, I came down here... gosh 1888. I’m not sure what the year is up there, I lost track a long time ago,” Morality said breezily as he began to pull pots and pans from the cupboard. He moved with a grace and confidence that implied he knew where he was going. Either that or he was being extremely lucky when it came to guessing where Virgil kept everything.

Wait.

1888?

“But you’re human? You’re mortal? Or are you... are you dead?” Roman asked and the thought of being stuck down here for over a hundred and twenty years was... Roman couldn’t even start to comprehend that. It was too large a number, too much for him to wrap his head around. Humans didn’t live that long, and the idea of being down here all that time? How on earth was Morality still able to smile?

“I guess it all depends on your point of view kiddo...” Morality trailed off, tapping a finger thoughtful against his chin. “We don’t age down here and I’ve been topside once or twice which has got my body going again. I’m still flesh and blood but the person I was when I first came down here is long dead. I certainly wouldn’t survive back up there, gosh no!” He gave a laugh, amused rather than upset, pouring the milk into the large saucepan he had placed on the stove.

“For a start, I was English, can you imagine?”

“You don’t sound English,” Roman replied without thinking. He couldn’t help but cringe a little and what a stupid, thoughtless thing to say. He was over a hundred and twenty years old, probably closer to a hundred and forty if he looked the age he did when he had lost his soul. That was plenty of time for an accent to change.

“Well, Logic likes to use an American accent, it helps with his businesses to sound like the rest, he usually works on this side of the pond. So most people I meet are American too. I guess it sort of rubbed off on me. London born and bred. Never set foot outside of it while I lived on Earth. I sometimes think it would have been nice to see the countryside before all those new-fangled modern horseless carriages really took off and roads were paved everywhere.”

“You mean when Logic takes their souls. When he steals them away from their lives,” Roman replied flatly and it was so odd to hear Morality speak of it so calmly. As though it was a perfectly natural thing to do and not something for a human to be revolted about.

“Everyone agrees to the deal kiddo. They know the cost, even if they don’t always realise what it means. Nobody walks into this blind. Well...” Morality sighed a little, wringing his hands together, expression shifting into one of anguish. Roman blinked, thrown by the sudden change. Morality had always looked cheerful before now. Even when Remy had insulted him there had been a fond smile on his face. Nothing had seemed to bother him but of a sudden Morality looked completely heartbroken. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over, hands slipping from the grip they had on each other to tug through his dark hair.

“Except for you. I’m sorry, Logic told me about your deal, it's awful. I’ve never known anything like it!”

Roman blinked at him a couple of times, thrown by the words. A large part of him wanted to react to the pity. Be it either angrily rejecting it or to gratefully accept it, he wasn’t sure. There was a large surge of emotion within him, and it was all tied up in the human in front of him. Roman wasn’t sure if that was just because this was the first other human he had seen since this whole ordeal had begun or if it was because here was someone who could finally understand what he was going through.

Virgil meant well. He was kind, something Roman trusted now. Remy was... well, Roman was still reserving judgement when it came to Remy. There was something a little wild about him, something dangerous that told Roman he couldn’t completely relax around him. It was like being in a room with someone who was kind - but still carried a weapon. Remy could turn his powers against Roman in an instant if he wanted to. No matter how nice Remy was to Roman, he couldn’t allow himself to forget that. For all of their positive actions however, neither of them really understood. How could they?

They hadn’t been torn away from their lives, pushed into a world so unlike anything he had ever known. They hadn’t been told this was his reality now. They didn’t miss their family, friends, and loved ones. They were home. Nothing Virgil could say or do, would change the fact that Roman was trapped here. Morality though. Morality was a human like him. Someone who had lived on earth, before being dragged down to the underworld.

Then again, Morality wasn’t actually like him. Morality wasn’t from his time. He was a ghost, an echo out of history. Roman couldn’t help but give a soft shiver at that thought. Was he looking into his future here? Immortality of a sort, but trapped in this world? Everyone Morality had ever known must have been dead for at least one hundred years. Roman couldn’t imagine the people he loved being dead. Let alone being dead for that long. It was something he hadn’t thought about before now. Something he would have been more than happy to never consider. There was the forever that Deceit had spoken of, the forever that came with being told he was trapped here for good.

And then there was the ‘forever’ that Morality represented. A forever where not even death seemed to be an escape.

Morality’s words struck a strange cord within him. Something beyond the pity that was being offered. It was terrible that Morality had been down here for that long. Terrible that it had happened to Roman as well, but what did he mean, he had never known anything like it? Wasn’t it the sort of thing demons did? Tricking people? They wanted souls, they used them as fuel. The fact that Virgil hadn’t ever hunted before was one of the reasons why Deceit had pushed Roman into this situation. So why would they never make these kinds of deals before? Morality had been down here long enough to have seen all manner of things, so it made no sense, his words.

That confusion seemed a lot more important to focus on, rather than any reaction to the pity.

“Wait... so people don’t normally sell their first born?” Roman asked slowly. He honestly wasn’t sure what answer he wanted to hear. Would it be better or worse, to be unusual?

Just as would it be better or worse, to have given in to Deceit’s demands? To have agreed to seduce Virgil for the promise of freedom? Because that couldn’t be normal either. It wasn’t the done thing. Virgil had seemed shocked - surprised, embarrassed, furious - that his dad had tried to do that.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, from what I’ve heard over the years, a lot of humans offer their kids. People can be selfish sometimes. I like to think people are for the most part good, but because of Logic the ones I usually meet tend to fall into the other side. Logic says it skews his data so that while he believes that mankind is evil, he cannot prove it one way or another.”

Logic thinks humans are evil?” For a moment, Roman felt almost disconnected from the rest of the conversation. As though he had suddenly tripped and fallen through ice into freezing cold water. The sort that took your breath away. The ones that rebooted your mind.

Logic. A demon. Considered humans to be the evil ones.

“Well... yeah. Demons offer help, but they want your soul in return. They tell you they want your soul. It is the human who sells it for whatever reason. I think sometimes they have a very good reason but that doesn’t change the fact that they still make the deal.” Morality paused, a shadow crossing his face. “Then again, everyone thinks they have a good reason at the time. Everyone... justifies it in their minds.”

Was he thinking of his own past here? Roman so badly wanted to know what on earth had happened to make someone like Morality end up down here. Morality didn’t seem like the sort to have made a deal with a demon. From what little Roman had seen of him, he seemed a sweet, kind sort. Morality made hot chocolate for goodness sake! Remy might distrust him, but could Roman really trust the view of a demon, over the view of another human?

What could possibly have possessed Morality to sell away his soul? It just didn’t seem feasible.

Then again, Roman would have never believed his parents to be that sort either. Especially to have done something which seemed slightly... underhand. Roman didn’t like thinking ill of his parents, but it was odd that they would try and trick a demon by selling a soul they thought would never come into the world without some backup. Worst that they would make the deal at all. To get something knowing a complete innocent would pay a terrible price for it... he couldn’t understand.

No. No, his parents weren’t like that. There were still so many pieces of the puzzle missing. There had to be. Roman refused to believe that they callously abandoned him to his fate.

Admittedly it wasn’t the terrible fate that they no doubt were imagining but he was still trapped here. That wasn’t their fault.

“Anyway!” Morality blinked a couple of times and shook his head before giving Roman that bright, friendly smile once more. “Demon’s tend to say no to those sorts of deals. Logic does at least. I don’t know why Deceit took it, it usually isn’t a great investment. And as weird as it sounds, a lot of the time they... don’t think it's fair?”

“Why not?” Roman demanded harshly. This conversation was making him more uncomfortable by the second. Morality shrugged, eyes warm with a look that had to be genuine.

“Because yes, demon’s are pretty much immortal by our standards, but it means they still have to wait. While they can be very patient creatures, on the whole when it comes to souls, they are a little more... eager. They want the souls now, not however many years down the line. Time moves differently here, so they might wait decades from their point of view for someone that only takes a few years to die up there. Plus, they tend to think that if you get the benefits, then you should have to pay the price. They don’t like the idea of someone else suffering instead of the human that signed up for it. Like I said, they don’t think it's fair.”

Demon’s had a concept of fairness. Demons held themselves to a concept of fairness.

Roman’s head was spinning. Everything he thought he knew was being turned on its head. Yet again. It seemed lately that every conversation Roman had down here twisted things into a new shape, where he had to forget all his current held beliefs to find something else. It wasn’t just Virgil and Remy. Demons were infinitely more complex than he had given them credit for. Just like humans. Nobody was black and white.

“To specify claiming the soul on your eighteenth... well, it’s weird. And whatever your parents got in return, it had to be really...” Morality trailed off, a guilty look on his face. “Never mind. I’m rambling. You have to be sick of people talking at you all the time. Enjoy the hot chocolate.”

Morality dipped his head, lifting the mug as he spoke. He took a deep sip of the drink, eyes half closing in apparent delight. Roman looked down at his own drink. The marshmallows had sunk a little into the cream by now, tiny pillows of pink drowning in the thick sea of cream. He took a mouthful, catching a mix of all the elements within.

It was quite possibly the best hot chocolate Roman had ever tasted. Certainly the best he had had in a very long time. Morality was right about that, even if the rest of his sentence was wrong.

Roman knew deflection when he saw it. An actor, he had to be able to call upon that skill himself. It was necessary to be able to react on the spot in improv. To roll with the punches or to slide them onto a different topic as and when needed. Roman could see it in Morality’s words. It hadn’t even been a good deflection, Morality could have screamed ‘I shouldn’t have said that, let’s talk about something else. Anything else’ and it would have had the same effect.

Another mouthful was downed, Roman mulling over the problem, torn between letting it go or pushing ahead. He didn’t want to risk this... friendship? Whatever it was the two of them were developing. Roman wanted to know he could talk to Morality again, he wanted the reassurance of a safe, smiling face. Pushing too hard, too fast, could scare him off. At the same time though, these were answers that Roman had been looking for. Not all of them, not by a long shot, but it took him a step closer.

“No, go on. It had to be really... what?” Roman had to know. He deserved to know. Morality squirmed a little in place, fingers gripping the handle of his mug tightly before giving a heavy, sorrowful, sigh.

“Logic told me that to make a deal involving such a specific end date, then there has to be a lot of power involved. It takes energy to make a deal in the first place, because the demons are giving part of themselves up for it. That’s just a basic deal. Yours would have been something special. Whatever your parents wanted, it was something huge. Something that would have cost Deceit a lot of energy. Something literally life changing. Not just wealth or power... it was something that altered the world.”

Roman snorted, shaking his head in annoyance, and that made no sense. He could add it to the pile of things that made no sense, but it still didn’t help at this moment.

“My parents aren’t rich. Or powerful. Or important in our community. It isn’t like they are famous either. They are just normal, everyday parents. They drive one car between them, dad works from home sometimes but that’s hardly worth selling a soul. They saved for years to be able to send me to college, I don’t see anything in our lives that could fit what you’re talking about.” Roman really wished things were simpler. Just in this one, basic area. Just so he could have something.

“I don’t know what to say kiddo. The only people who know the details of the deal are Deceit and your parents. For whatever reason, Deceit really wanted you. At this age. I can’t imagine why...”

Morality paused, large eyes blinking innocently at Roman, as if waiting for him to chim in. Roman opened his mouth before closing it once more. The temptation was there, so strong, almost overpowering. Not in a demonic sense, but in an obligation sense, the desire to give something back after everything.

Morality had been so kind. He had spoken to him like a person, he had shown sympathy. He had been willing to explain some of the rules that Roman didn’t understand before this moment. The answer might not have been as readily available as Roman could have hoped but that wasn’t Morality’s fault. He had tried to answer, he hadn’t danced around the subject or told him it was something he couldn’t understand.

At the end of the day, it seemed as if Morality was confused, just as Roman was, so it seemed only right that he shared what he knew. Perhaps together, they could make sense of Deceit’s plan. Remy had said there would be some hidden meaning behind it all, some plan that they weren’t yet aware of, but that hardly helped. Knowing that you didn’t know something just made it more frustrating.

Remy had also warned him that whatever Morality knew, Logic would learn about it. It was one thing to tell someone as warm and as nice as Morality about the terrifying conversation with Deceit, his strange demands and bizarre wishes. It was quite another to share it with Logic. Who knew what that demon might do with such information? It could lead to trouble.

Roman didn’t want to put Virgil into any kind of trouble. Letting another demon know that Virgil’s dad thought so poorly of him as a demon that he had basically given him a human would surely just embarrass him. There was even the possibility that it could put him in danger. The details were a little fuzzy in Roman’s mind but they kept saying, over and over again, that knowledge was power here. In turn, that it was a weapon or a shield. Virgil and Deceit’s relationship could be used against Virgil - Roman couldn’t risk hurting Virgil.

“Kiddo?” Morality promoted, still looking concerned and comforting. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Roman decided at last. “I mean... nothing that I can add to it. Anxiety and Sleep are useless, they don’t know any details and no way Deceit is going to tell me anything that makes any sense. He just threatened me a little.”

It was - and wasn’t - the truth. Deceit had threatened him. Just as his words had made no sense. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

Morality smiled, wide, warm. He didn’t appear at all put out by the fact that Roman couldn’t help. It made the guilt shift uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Humans lied. He was lying. But it was better to lie for sure. Better to make sure that Logan didn’t know about it, or that Morality wasn’t pushed into a conflicting set of loyalties. Roman didn’t want to ask him to keep it a secret, or to have his trust betrayed. Best all round to just remove the temptation.

“How come you can walk around freely?” Roman blurted out. “I mean... don’t demon’s try to snatch you?”

Or was it only Logic that did that kind of thing? There were yet more questions, which was possibly unfair on Morality but Roman needed to get them off the subject of his deal and onto something else. The information he had just learnt was something Roman was going to have to ponder. He needed to pick it apart, to try and come up with some new questions. He had to work out the best way to approach the topic with Virgil.

Mentioning his dad always made the emo even moodier than usual. Mentioning this could lead to a melt down. Talking to Remy wasn’t a great option either. Roman felt guilty about the conversations they had already had, the almost flirting that had happened between them. He really didn’t want to add to that.

The guilt at least.

And the flirting. The not flirting. The... whatever, that Remy insisted on doing whenever he was around him. All smiles and nudges, comments that had hidden meanings, suggestive winks that left him far flustered than he liked. Roman didn’t want any of that. It didn’t matter how cute Remy was. Not at all. Not from Remy.

“I’ve been here long enough that most demon’s know me by now. They know better than to annoy Logic. And the ones that don’t, well...” Morality reached up to his neck, tugging a cord free from under his top. He lifted it a few inches away from his chest, letting the object hanging from it dangle from his fingers. It was thin, silver, almost in the shape of a bullet. Letters were carved into it, in that same weird script that Virgil’s phone had been in.

A tag? Was that... a name tag? Like Morality was some kind of pet?

The horror must have been visible on Roman’s face because Morality was instantly speaking once more, hand holding the pendant waving a little in the air.

“Don’t look like that Princey. It’s not what you’re thinking,” Morality assured him. “Anyway, it’s better to have this than to have someone try and snatch me away! Not everyone down here is as nice as my Logic.”

Nice... was not how Roman would have described Logic.

“We are talking about the same demon right?” Roman said faintly, trying to imagine any sort of situation in which Logic could be described as ‘nice’. He was a dreamer, a story teller. He weaved worlds as easily as someone might tie a knot, but even he was coming up short with any way that Logic was ‘nice’.

“Logic is a sweetie pie once you get to know him! Oh, don’t tell him I told you so. He might be a Hunger demon, but there is plenty of pride in him too. It would damage that if he realised I knew just how squishy on the inside he was. I don’t mind playing the part.” Morality carefully tucked the pendant back under his shirt as he spoke, smiling all the while. Surely it had to hurt his mouth after a while? Roman hadn’t met anyone who could smile for as long as Morality.

“If... if you say so,” Roman replied doubtfully. It was still a tag, and was that what he was going to end up with? Marked for everyone to see that he was Virgil’s ‘property’? It made his skin crawl with disgust. He might not mind Virgil so much anymore - Roman might actually like him, rather a lot, although there was thinking it and saying it.

But he didn’t want to debase himself to such a level, by wearing a name tag around his neck. Virgil had never mentioned the possibility, which made Roman hope they shared the same view. Virgil had gone out of his way to make things as comfortable as possible for Roman. He had bent over backwards to protect him - surely he didn’t want to have Roman wear such a thing? Although if it was the only way to safely leave the house...

Roman didn’t want to spend the rest of his life trapped within these four walls. It was bad enough to imagine he was trapped within the underworld. His one attempt to leave had been a disaster, and it stood to reason that trying again would lead to similar results.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you Princey, I hope we can do it again sometime. There is a lovely picnic spot about ten minutes from here, you’ll have to join me sometime! Once it's safe for you to come out. I’m sure Anxiety will sort something out for you soon. And in the meantime...” Morality looked around the kitchen, absentmindedly putting the now empty mug in the sink as he did.

A picnic spot. Of course the underworld had a picnic spot. Why wouldn’t it? It was only a barren wasteland out there. A picnic spot where you could sit and watch the firepits, or torture scenes sounded perfectly normal. What had his life become, that it could sound normal?

“Ah ha!” With a triumphant little cry, Morality darted forward to the fridge. A pen and notepad hung on the front door. Roman had never seen Virgil actually use it. Morality scribbled down a number before pulling the sheet away and handing it to him.

“If you ever wanna talk, Princey, I’m here. Give me a buzz or a text.”

Roman nodded, eyes fixed on the number. It was a link to the outside world. Maybe there were still some things that Roman didn’t want to talk to Patton about, but that didn’t stop him from talking to him completely. Right? Morality could give him things that neither Remy or Virgil could. Things that he so badly needed, things that they just couldn’t understand. It wasn’t wrong to want that connection... it couldn’t be wrong to want it, because he was human. He was just a human surrounded by demons that even when they were nice to him, still owed him or called him a distraction as though he wasn’t his own person, with his own desires. They might not dovetail with the desires of the... well... desire demon, but that made them no less real.

Ruthlessly, Roman pushed aside the thought that Remy had let him have this conversation despite very clearly not being happy about it. Despite it going against his own wishes and desires. One choice did not make up for this life.

Morality reached out, hand resting on Roman’s shoulder. He gave it a firm squeeze, something grounding and oh so comforting. It made Roman look up again, meeting those impossibly warm eyes. How could someone live here for as long as Morality had, yet still remain so kind?

“About anything,” Morality stressed. “I know how disorientating it can be down here at first. I could have done with someone showing me around, showing me the ropes. Letting me know how things worked, and how to make the best of your life now it has changed so much. Discovering how to handle all the demons around you. I can’t help you with Anxiety. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the little anxious baby, but I don’t know him in the same way I know Logic.”

There was a lot to that speech. A lot to unpack. Not least of all the defeatist tone to it. How to make the best of his life now? Roman hadn’t given up on the hope of going home. He refused to give up on that. His parents had promised. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest thing, to cling to their words over the sort of reality that was staring him in the face, but Roman had to act with his heart. He wasn’t going to end up a shadow, an echo of a life that never got lived. He wasn’t going to live out the rest of his endless days here with Virgil and Remy. No matter how cute they were.

Virgil wanted to help him, had wanted to free him. It was just a question of working out how, and perhaps once whatever sensations were keeping Virgil calm had worn off, they could discuss just that. There had to be a way out of here. There just had to be.

At least, until then, he had this offer, this other hope, this idea of trying to make something out of the mess he was surrounded by.

“I’m here for you Princey,” Morality repeated, stressing the words once more, his eyes wide and begging to be trusted. Roman had never met anyone who could actually pull off pleading cat eyes before. It was impressive and almost a little scary.

Roman so badly wanted to believe those words. Morality was kind. Sweet. Yes, he would tell Logic everything, but was that really his fault? If Virgil wanted, he could surely make Roman sing against his will. He could make him do anything with that stupid scroll. Logic must have a similar one for Morality. For all of that however, it also seemed as if Morality had managed to make his own mark upon this place. He had the sort of freedoms that roman could only dream about. He also seemed defeated, accepting of his servitude, but then Logic had probably never once offered to free him. That demon wasn’t like his.

Not that the demons mattered right now. This was between Roman and Morality, one uncertain, the other offering a lifeline Roman so desperately wanted to grab.

Surely Morality didn’t have any ulterior motives?