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Chapter Text

The day (if there were days in the Fade) in the life of a Wrath demon was relatively simple. Unlike the more cunning demons like Pride and Lust, Wraths just wandered. Sometimes one of the other demons looped them into their plans but for the most part they just traveled the Fade. If they encountered a native of the Fade, they usually lashed out. If they encountered a dreamer, more interesting things happened. But, the Wrath demons weren’t cunning or planning. They were reactionary.

One such Wrath demon was surprised to have its daily routine changed. A strange feeling tugged at the center of its chest pulling it off its route. The feeling pulling Wrath from its stewing, violent thoughts. It tried to shake the strange call off but found it couldn’t. No matter how hard it tried to return to its previous thoughts, it found it couldn’t. It couldn’t even remember what it was thinking about. Had it been thinking about the Command spirit that had cut it off? The thought should have immediately made Wrath angry again but instead the thought passed and Wrath continued to wander forward. The Fade was thin, it realized. It was the first time it had noticed the Fade in a long time. The Fade was just a place where it existed, Wrath rarely thought about it at all. Wrath hardly thought about anything except dwelling in the burning feelings the smothered most of it’s thoughts.

Stumbling forward, Wrath found that it could touch the Fade. It was a hole in the Fade? Wrath was no spirit of Wisdom. Suddenly anger welled up inside it. Was it trapped here? How dare something try to hold it! It pounded its burning, charred fists against the Fade. Then like smudging away fog on a mirror, Wrath found it could look out. That was the physical world! Vaguely, Wrath could remember one being in the physical world.

Wrath looked through and saw a human boy with fair hair, laying in a dirt pit. Holding its hand was a spirit? Wrath gnashed its hardened lava teeth! How dare that spirit get to enjoy that while she was trapped. What a selfish beast. Wrath wanted to smash its head against the Fade, to bring itself out while inflicting misery. Only barely did the Wrath demon register that it was a spirit of Compassion.

Trying to comfort the boy. Wrath could feel the life draining from the boy. The sand in the glass was all but up. There was more in the bottom than in the top. Bitterness swam inside what was left of the boy. “Why me?” He thought, “Why won’t anyone come. I’m so scared. I’m so alone.” These thoughts were smothered and tended to like wounds by Compassion.

Wrath sneered. What did Compassion know of loneliness of hurt. The boy had a right to be upset. He was dying, trapped and alone. He shouldn’t be. He should be out there free. It wasn’t right. He should be angry, resentful. Wrath pushed against the Fade, urged on by its own nature. Compassion felt it coming and recoiled against the Fade as if trying to mend the tear. But the Fade wasn’t something that Compassion could mend like it tried to mend people. Wrath felt Compassion’s touch ghost against it’s burning form. It howled in anger then, then Wrath screamed.

Something happened. Wrath couldn’t explain what. First it was touching the Fade, something it shouldn’t be able to touch. Then it was seeing through the Fade, that wasn’t so remarkable really. Then it was falling through the Fade which was remarkable. Wrath had never fallen into water, or what shadow of water existed in the Fade. But if it had, it would be like this. The fire that burned within it struggled to life against cold pressure. Everything spun and Wrath couldn’t make heads or tails of up and down. It didn’t know what was happening and everything was a blur. It was the first time in a long time, Wrath felt something but anger. It felt fear.

Then it was lying on something rough and uncomfortable. All around it was darkness then it realized its eyes were closed. “What am I, a Sloth demon?” It thought angrily, opening its eyes. The first thing it noticed was its body was different. Instead of its normal form it was now small with weird mounds of fat on its chest and weird soft wires in its head. “Human?” It muttered, “Female,” it realized.

It- she, found that she could turn her head to observe her surroundings. She was right, they were in a pit. Crouched over next to the body of the dying or dead boy was another boy. This boy shared its face. “Compassion…” Wrath realized, its eyes narrowing. “How cute,” Wrath thought, finding that she didn’t mean the thought at all. A minute into the physical word and she had discovered sarcasm, “It took the boy’s face.” Her eyes flickered in her skull at the obnoxious thought.

Compassion rounded on her, “What did you do?!” It yelled in her face. Wrath stared up at it, blinking owlishly. For a compassion spirit it was rather angry, and rather human. It looked more solid than her. She couldn’t see through it. Her hand snapped out and she was happy to see that though she wasn’t solid she could touch him. She pushed him back and he stumbled.

“Get out of my face,” she hissed, getting to her feet. She wobbled on her feet. She felt sick and she regretted moving instantly. Her body burned and it felt unnatural instead of natural like always. Her hair moved around her face fast, like a flickering fire. Everything around her was frightening. It was too different. Too real. When she called the floor to catch her, it refused. Wrath fell to her knees cursing.

Compassion sneered, “Go back to the Fade demon.”

Wrath hissed, “Do I answer to sniveling Compassion spirits?” Her reply was weak. Wrath realized that she couldn’t just go back to the Fade. Could demons even do that? Wrath could barely remember when the last time she came to the physical world.

Compassion started at her stumbling reply. Wrath turned away, her back to the spirit. She didn’t want its’ eyes on her. Then everything burning and aching in her boiled over. Wrath screamed, curling into a ball. Everything in her sight went red and the heat for the first time seemed to burn her. What was happening that her own fire should her hurt her? Then everything went black.

Chapter Text

Compassion could tell something was about to happen. The strange half-human, half-demon, shuddered and fell to its’ knees.

“Go back to the Fade, demon!” Compassion yelled at it. This demon had tried to ruin everything. It had almost made Cole’s last moments terrible. Now it was out and free and still powerful.

“Do I answer to sniveling Compassion spirits?” Wrath asked sarcastically. It was supposed to be said haughtily, angrily, bitterly. Instead Wrath stumbled out over it’s words. The effort was obviously weak.

Compassion stared at the demon. He wanted to show disgust, to hate it, but something in his nature schooled any words from falling off his lips. He could feel its’ distress. Compassion had been in the physical world for a while. His naturally pliable nature had adapted, not easily but not particularly difficulty either. Something with a nature as volatile as Wrath’s would have a hard time adapting. It’s pale skin glowed, as if there was fire in it’s veins. There might be. Wrath turned away violently from him, not wanting to him to see it’s weakness, Compassion assumed. Compassion wondered if perhaps it were a pride demon instead.

Then it’s hair, which was already like fire, began to flick around wildly. Compassion realized that something very terrible was about to happen. Wrath’s body seemed to curl in on itself, wracked with pain. Compassion flickered forward, wrapping his arms around her from. He didn’t know what drove him to do this. He hated her nature. He hated her for what she was. Yet, something instinct in his nature drove him to offer some sort of vain comfort, not that it was likely to be appreciated.

Wrath’s body was burning. It ached to touch it. Yet it wasn’t a physical pain. His skin did not blistered and his shirt didn’t burn. The pain was real enough but the heat wasn’t. Unlike him, Wrath still hovered in the space between spirit and humanity. However, the fire that exploded out of her chest was real. It spewed out of her, like her heart had just exploded. The fire slammed into the wall and then was redirected to the side scorching the entire room. Compassion watched in horror and amazement as Cole’s body burned up until it was nothing left but a charred skeleton. Everything burned, but him. His position, wrapped around her back, protected him from the flames. Wrath’s body sagged back, falling against him. The weight made Compassion fall back on his rear, Wrath falling with him. Its head landed against his chest and then slide down slightly, only his arms holding her up slightly.

At first Compassion was caught up at looking at the form the demon had assumed. How much choice Wrath had in choosing its form, Compassion didn’t know. It was feminine, oddly enough, but very small. Compassion would have guessed it were a child’s form if it weren’t for the mounds of fat on its chest. That was a feminine feature, Compassion knew, from the memories Cole had shared with him of his family. Its hair, Compassion had thought was red, but now it was a light blonde, though it seemed to shift to different shades. It’s body was warm, seemingly pulsing slightly with heat. Too hot for a human but not enough to hurt. On its head, were two small red horns that looked more like sharpened nubs of horn as opposed to actual horns. It was something that Wrath had never sported in its previous form. Compassion couldn’t help but think it was fitting.

He let go of Wrath’s unconscious form, and it’s body sagged against him. It’s had eventually fell into his lap. Compassion didn’t shove it away, though it was tempted to. He hated it. It was a monster. The only reason it wasn’t an actual abomination was because its body was its own. The only thing it did was hurt other people. It was worse than the other demons because they had some sort of goal. Wrath hurt because that was what it did. Evil by nature.

The demon opened its eyes, and Compassion discovered that its eyes were blue, though ringed with red. It blinked twice and stared up at him. “You burned Cole,” Compassion snapped, resentful towards the demon.

Wrath sat up and rubbed its’ head, “Descent burial as the kid’s going to get.” Compassion contemplated putting his hands around its’ throat at its’ callous tone.

“What is wrong with you?” He asked instead.

Wrath turned its’ head towards him and seemed to sneer, “What, are you asking why I don’t have compassion?” It asked.

Compassion didn’t respond to its’ jab. It stood up, “No, I don’t have compassion.” It said without any shame, “I do have pragmatism though. I don’t know if I have to eat or sleep but you look and feel all squishy, so I imagine you do. It’s a pretty high climb out. Cole couldn’t do it but together we might.”

Compassion stared at it, “What?”

Wrath rolled its’ eyes, “What, do you intend to stay in here until you end up like him?” It asked pointing to Cole’s charred body, “The kid was squishy, squishy things have to come from other squishing things. Those squishy things are going to miss him, if they aren’t already. They’re going to be sad. I thought you wanted to help sad people.”

Compassion tilted his head and stared up at Wrath trying to understand what it was suggesting, “Pretend…? Wear his mask?”

Wrath let out an exhale of air. Compassion wondered if it even needed to breath, “You speak weird when you aren’t yelling at me. You’re already wearing his face. You get a life, they get their squishy. Seems fair to me.”

“Demon’s deal!” Compassion recoiled. Wrath’s advice, however tempting it sounded, had to be bad. Wrath didn’t help. They only wanted to hurt.

“Pfft, a stupid spirit like you would think that. A demon’s deal is when you take a squishy’s form in exchange for something. You already have a squishy form of your own. Just because you’re a spirit and you’re making  a trade with squishies doesn’t make it a ‘demon’s deal’.”

Compassion continued to look at the demon with suspicion. Wrath stared back before eventually resented, “Listen, Compassion,” it sneered, “I don’t care what you do. I don’t know if I can get out of this pit on my own. And as I am not squishy, I would rather not stay in a pit with a bitchy spirit and a charred skeleton. So let’s help each other.”

Compassion nodded his head. Now that he knew what it wanted, it could work with it. Compassion recoiled from that thought. He wasn’t really working with it. It was using him and he was using it. It was different. Once he got out, he would never have to see it again. Though, Compassion wondered, watching as Wrath tried to think of how they were going to get out, would it be safe for him to let it wander around? It was dangerous, wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

Wrath found Compassion insufferable. It owned skin, fully realized skin, unlike the halfway form she possessed. Yet it acted as if it were puppet being manipulated by an unskilled puppeteer. She felt more at home in her form then it did - now that she had adjusted painfully. Getting it to pick her up, and hold still had been an obnoxious task. The task would have been easier if it would have looked at what it was doing. But it had annoying habit of looking anywhere other than where it was supposed to be.

She eventually managed to get on its’ shoulders and now she stood on them, reaching up to get out of the pit. She couldn’t quite reach but there was an exposed root. Gritting her teeth in determination, Wrath pushed her feet into Compassion’s bony shoulders and pushed off. It gasped, whether in pain or surprise, Wrath didn’t know. Her little hands wrapped tightly around the root and for a moment she dangled. Her red and blue ringed eyes watched the root for any failings, but it held her weight. Feeling braver, Wrath dug her toes into the earth which gave away enough to create an almost foothold, using her hand and her foot, she pushed up and pulled herself over.

She stood at the top and looked down at Compassion. Then she laughed at the stupid look on Compassion’s face. It realized that now she could leave and there was nothing it could do about it.

“Did you think I didn’t see that look in your eyes, spirit?” she called down a wicked grin on her cheeks. “You were going to backstab me. Why should I help you?”

Compassion had no response. It even looked a bit guilty. Typical of a Compassion spirit, not that Wrath had interacted with them. She turned on her heel to leave it to its fate. She only managed a few feet. Then suddenly she felt it. Her stomach dropped and she clutched her heart that was beating uncomfortably fast.

What was this? Each step was harder. She couldn’t take another. She stumbled back a step and the pain alleviated. Wrath took another and another until she was back at the ledge. Now she felt fine. Wrath could have screamed. Something bad had happened when she fell out of the Fade. Something in Compassion’s touch had mingled in her, binding her to him.

Compassion stared up at her, confused at her return and by the look of fury on her face. Indecision gripped her. If he died would she be free or trapped having to carry a corpse with her (and how would she get his body out of the pit)? Waiting for him to die would be awful. He would complain and make speeches, she bet. Wrath gnashed her teeth before laying down her stomach, reaching down.

“Jump,” she snarled.

Compassion didn’t have to be told twice. It jumped once then twice, then its hand grabbed hers. Wrath nearly fell in again, but she dug her feet deep into the ground and held herself in place. Her arm screamed in pain. Wrath thought her form wasn’t real. Nothing in the physical world seemed to affect her greatly nothing but Compassion. She snarled at the thought, its’ hand felt in her grasp. It hurt. Strange liquid pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision. Something popped and then Compassion grabbed the root and hoisted itself up.

Wrath rolled over, clutching her arm. Compassion crawled to its’ feet and stared down at her. “You came back…?”

Wrath barred her teeth, “I can’t leave you, literally. You did something to me!”

Compassion blinked, seeming to realize that this way it could keep an eye on her. It didn’t even seem phased by her anger. “You’re hurt?”

“You weigh a lot, even though you’re scrawny meat and bones!”

Compassion’s eyes darkened and Wrath felt a thrill of victory at upsetting him, “This is Cole’s form.”

Compassion reached down and pulled her up. Wrath hissed but allowed him. “Where are we?” She asked.

Compassion shook his head.

“You didn’t happen to get any of Cole’s memories did you?” She asked instead, feeling like she was talking to someone simple, or at least unhelpful. Weren’t Compassion spirits all about helping?

Compassion nodded.

“Let’s go to his home.”

“You’ll scare them.”

“I’d be amazed if they could see me.”

Compassion gave her an odd look.

“You’ve got a body. I’m trapped in between.”

“You shouldn’t have interfered.”

“Fuck you too,” Wrath snapped, her temper fraying.

Compassion didn’t respond but began walking. Wrath trailed after and found that her arm stopped hurting. Had it been real pain or simulated pain? She wondered. How much of her was real? It made her head hurt to think about it.

Wrath watched as the strange woods they were in melted into the suburbs. Her nose wrinkled. How much had the physical world changed? Nobody was wearing the right clothing - though she was wearing clothes that fit. Even though she had been trapped in a pit, no dirt clung to her clothes (unlike Compassion’s). Her fingers splayed against the strange fabric that made up the body covering. It was rough and yet sort of soft against her fingers. It was some light shade of yellow the reminded her of the softer shades of yellow she had once glowed. She smoothed the fabric and pulled the brown fabric that hung from her arms tighter around her. It wasn’t cold - or Wrath didn’t feel it if it were - she felt a little exposed.

Nobody looked at her, just through her, and that was worse, Wrath thought. But at least she didn’t have to worry about her horns, hair, or eyes, causing problems.

They did see Compassion though. They pointed and stared. It was Cole’s form that drew the attention. Cole had died, as far as Wrath could tell, from neglecting his needs and exposure. It had been a long painful death. People must have noticed he was missing and weren’t expecting him to come back. Luckily, Compassion walked like someone who had just been through something traumatic. Otherwise it would be dealing with even more questions. Wrath wondered how it was going to handle questions. The squishies had forgotten a lot about the Fade and its inhabitants and mages were far and in between, not many possessions happened and few of them were discovered (Wrath wondered if she had always thought so clearly. Out here, memories came so much easier.). At least they didn’t have to worry about Templars, Wrath wondered if they were even still around.

Compassion and Wrath reached Cole’s house. Wrath looked at it appreciatively, not big, not small. Looked like a standard four person family home. Her eyes shifted to Compassion’s uneasy form. Wrath grinned and tilted her head down to hide her smile. It wasn’t a kind smile. This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Compassion stumbled through the interaction with his parents. Luckily they were so happy to have “Cole” back that they asked very few questions. They sat him down and fed him, luckily very little. Compassion had never eaten before and while the experience wasn’t unpleasant it was strange and Compassion was unsure how to do it.

If it weren’t difficult enough managing playing the part of Cole, Wrath wasn’t making things any easier. It followed him around with that strange smile that made Compassion uneasy. Sometimes Wrath was helpful. It was the one who told him how to handle some of the harder questions.

Perched on the coffee table it had chirped, “By the domains of the Fade, Compassion, tell them you got lost in the woods. Do not mention the pit.” Cole did and it worked, they fussed and and made him the food that he was choking down. Of course, before Compassion could take any pleasure in the comfort he was giving them, Wrath had to ruin it.

“You don’t want them to find Cole’s ashes, after all. Not until they’ve accepted you as their son.” It snickered, “Look at you Compassion, playing the part of their dead son, playing at being a human. What was the difference between a demon and spirit again?”

Compassion couldn’t tell when Wrath was being helpful or when it was trying to hurt him. Perhaps it was trying to both? If he had retained his spirit powers he could have read Wrath’s intentions more. But only a ghost of his power remained, enough for him to see the conflicting emotions that tangled in Wrath like a knot. What it all meant though, Compassion couldn’t tell. Was it trying to corrupt him? But could that even happen now that he was mostly human? Could he even trust its advice? It was the one who guided him here! And now it was guilting him for it. Compassion couldn’t make head or tails of its confusing thoughts. He did feel the same deep seeded hatred for it. If Wrath hadn’t interfered…

Cole’s parents sensed some distress and got him into the bathtub to clean up. They left him alone and Compassion stared at all the bottles of strange liquid. “What do I do?” He asked after several minutes of staring, his eyes flickering to Wrath’s form.

Wrath was trying to grab the handle of one of the sinks cabinet doors. Its hand kept phasing through. The frustration was apparent and Cole could take some satisfaction in Wrath’s distress, and limited abilities. All Wrath had was its words and Wrath demons weren’t very good with them anyway.

Wrath spun its head to face him, the red in its eyes more apparent, affected by its frustration. “You can read can’t you?” It spat, “Read the bottles for instructions! And don’t pour too many. They smell!”

“They smell?” Compassion queried.

“You have a human nose. It’s accustomed to smells. Mine isn’t human.”

Compassion was tempted to pour all the bottles on him but decided that that was too petty and likely just unwise. He settled on one for his hair, since they were many bottles dedicated to it, and one for his body. Hopefully, this was correct.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Wrath. It couldn’t touch things, it phased through them, yet walls, doors, and floors offered resistance to it. If it tried to move a table, it couldn’t touch it. But if it wanted to sit on it, it had no problem. It was a strange predicament. Although, it made Wrath easy to contain if Compassion needed to. He was worried about what Wrath might do to humans if it could touch them.

Wrath caught his eye and sneered. Compassion noted that the form it took while unusual looking was not wholly unpleasant to the eye. The fact that Wrath inhabited it though, that made it unpleasant. The look in Wrath’s eyes indicated that it felt similar distaste for him.

“Would you hurry up?” Wrath asked.

“Why?” Compassion asked.

Wrath glared and didn’t respond. It wasn’t a spirit of wisdom, why was it so eager to explore? Compassion wondered as he stepped out of the bath and attempted to dry the water off his body.

Awkwardly he pulled the clothes on. Wrath let out a mangled try after the third failed attempt to get his shirt on (the pants had been easy). It climbed up on the toilet and tried to help. Its’ hands phased through his shirt but remained against his chest. It felt real which alarmed Compassion, he jerked away and Wrath fell sprawling onto the floor, its head slamming into the wall. It made no sound but it looked like it hurt. Compassion wondered if it could feel pain. From the odd noise that came from its throat, he assumed it could at least somewhat. Guilt spiked in him. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly, in case anyone was walking by the door.

Wrath shot him a furious look, “See if I help you again!” It yelled. And it kept its word. Cole was sent to bed and any questions he threw Wrath’s way in an effort to make some conversation because he wasn’t tired and he didn’t know how to sleep were ignored. Frustration in him mounted. Why was it acting like the wounded party? It was the demon. It was its own fault they were in this situation. Wrath remained quiet, but the anger that radiated from it was apparent because of its whipping locks that seemed to be content to stay strawberry blonde instead of the honey color they had been earlier.

Compassion lay under the covers and turned its back to Wrath. “Sorry,” he mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing to it. Wrath didn’t reply. Compassion was tempted to take back his apology but refrained. Instead he closed his eyes and found himself slipping away. 

Chapter Text

Wrath sneered at the apology Compassion offered. Oh yes, it was so sorry. It was sorry she wasn’t helping it! And why should she? They were bound together, yes, but that didn’t make them friends. Wrath hated Compassion, hated its’ self-righteous attitude, and its’ unrealistic look on life. Everything it did made her angry. Still, at least it had the knowledge to know that it ought to apologize. Maybe tomorrow Wrath would throw some of the help it so desperately needed its way. Maybe.

Wrath watched Compassion endeavor to sleep with curiosity. Unlike Compassion, Wrath didn’t feel the need to sleep. She had tried to close her eyes and had given up. Instead she decided to test her powers. She could phase against everything but walls and doors (and Compassion), why? She pushed her small hands against the wall of Cole’s room. She felt the wall but it just felt like pressure. Not the way it had felt when she touched Compassion. Wrath shuddered. Touching Compassion had been so real. It was terrifying. All the sensations running through her body, was that what Compassion and humans felt all the time? The idea was scary. Why did demons want to feel that so badly? Still, it was addictive too. Wrath had felt it and it scared her but, she wanted to feel it again.

Wrath focused on her task, which was the opposite of touching. Her hands pressed against the wall, and tried to imagine the sensations she had felt when she had phased through other objects. The pressure began to feel uncomfortable and then suddenly she felt nothing, no pressure, nothing. She opened her eyes (which she hadn’t realized she had closed in concentration) and saw her hands were gone, through the wall. She grinned.

Pulling her hands back she closed them into victorious fists. Now she could leave this room! She headed over to Cole’s door and tried to walk through it. Instead she slammed into it and hit the floor. Wrath cursed. The pressure of the door had smashed against her stung. She got back up after a few minutes and tried to figure out what she had done wrong.

She set her hands against the door feeling the pressure. Closing her eyes she imagined the pressure was gone. After a few moments she couldn’t feel any pressure at all. Stepping forward, she felt herself meet some pressure but then she quickly reminded herself it wasn’t there. A few steps forward and Wrath opened her eyes. She was outside Cole’s room!

“Take that doors!” She announced, pointing at Cole’s door and laughing. She paused and touched her throat. That noise she had made, it felt good. Had she made that noise before? Wrath had a few memories of making noises like it, but not that noise. She shook the thought away. It was a nice experience and maybe she would get to repeat it, but she had exploring to do.

There was a strange type of light coming down the hall. Wrath followed it to discover Cole’s father watching the light, which had faces and voices coming from it. Intrigued, Wrath flopped onto the couch beside the father and watched. It was a news station (Wrath learned this because they announced it which, while useful, was rather stupid. Didn’t everyone know what they were watching?). She learned that they were in the town of White Spire. She learned what the weather would be like tomorrow and a lot about Cole’s life (he was on the news as his disappearance had been resolved, Wrath supposed that in a world were information was easily available a story like this would be noteworthy).

The more she watched, the more Wrath learned just how lucky Compassion and her were. Apparently the family had only recently moved here. Meaning, of course, there would be few if any friends for Compassion to fool into believing he was Cole. No school work to catch up, he hadn’t started school. A host of problems Wrath had been picturing vanished before her ringed eyes. Wrath hummed in contentment as she watched and learned a lot about Cole’s life and how the physical world worked. The best was that the fact that Cole’s family was not heavily connected to the town, as they had only recently moved in, and this would keep there from being as many reporters. There were still an annoying amount outside, but “Cole” wouldn’t be going back to school for a while and his family seemed to be doing their best to keep him from being swarmed by the vultures. By the time Cole had to start school all the reporters should have died down. Wrath doubted Compassion could handle their pressure so she was thankful for this twist of fate.

Eventually Cole’s father went to his room, leaving Wrath in the dark. Even if she could turn on the TV, Wrath couldn’t risk one of the family noticing the TV turning on ‘by itself’. So, instead, Wrath experimented seeing how far she could go away from Compassion. It wasn’t very far,trying to enter the kitchen made her sick. Wrath frowned at this discovery and felt a pang of anger. She hated being trapped and contained and yet here she was chained, chained to Compassion. 

Wrath gave up and returned to Compassion’s room. Her ringed eyes turned to its’ body and Wrath contemplated murdering him. Perhaps she would have felt guilty for murdering it in cold blood, but she had seen looks Compassion had given her. It would have killed her if she hadn’t discovered she was chained to it. Even now she was afraid to close her eyes in its presence. Her earlier attempts at sleep had been half-hearted. It was funny, she was the demon and she was the one afraid to sleep. Her eyes narrowed and focused on his frame.

Slowly she meandered around his room, trying her hand at experimenting with her powers. She wanted to be able to phase through things without having to fully focus on the task. Before Wrath knew it, the morning light was pouring through Cole’s curtains, bathing the room in a blue cold light.

Wrath turned, to look at the clock near Cole’s bed. She knew squishies had a concept of time which they ordered their lives around. It was something completely foreign to the Fade, but if she were going to be living in the physical world, she ought to learn it. As her eyes traveled to the clock they perceived that the lump of flesh that lay near the clock’s breathing had changed. Her eyes snapped to Compassion’s form and she found two brilliant blue eyes taking her in. “Quit staring at me, freak,” she snarled. Two eyebrows drew together. What had he thought they passed on good terms last night?  

Chapter Text

Compassion stared at Wrath. It wasn’t exactly the nicest thing to wake up to. Sleeping was weird, going to the Fade again was weird. Compassion stared at Wrath and wondered if it slept at all and if it needed to. He got the feeling it didn’t.  Wrath didn’t seem as ‘squishy’ (as it called it) as he did.

Compassion crawled out of bed and made another attempt at trying on clothes. It went no better than the last time. With his head through an armhole (which he didn’t realize until he had jammed his head through) he sent Wrath a pleading look. The demon looked up from its’ perch on Cole’s desk. It appeared to be sulking but when it saw how ridiculous Compassion looked, a mocking smile curled onto its soft cheeks.

“Pull your head out, and put it in the center hole. You’re trying to hard to get it right.” It told him.

Compassion followed its’ advice and found that maybe he had been complicating things. He glanced at Wrath out of the corner of his eyes. He was stuck with this demon but he supposed he could try to make the best of it. If they got along he could use his influence over it to keep it from doing, whatever demons did.

“Coooole!” Cole’s mother’s voice drifted under the door. Wrath raised an eyebrow.

“Do you need to eat?” Compassion found himself suddenly asking.

Wrath rolled its’ eyes, making Compassion regret being kind, but replied in a mild tone, “I don’t think so. I would feel…. -”

“Hunger,” Compassion supplied.

“Yeah, that,” Wrath agreed without a stinging rebuff. Compassion nodded his head and decided to name this conversation as a success.

He headed out to the main room of Cole’s house which was both a living room and a kitchen. Cole’s mother was setting something on the table and she gestured for Compassion, who lingered awkwardly in the space between the designating kitchen and living room, to come sit down. Compassion took a spot, which he judged was ‘Cole’s spot’ between his parents with his sister sitting across from him.

Compassion took in Cole’s sister. She was young, probably in elementary school, with blonde pigtails and blue eyes that matched Cole’s. She was eating the same thing that was sitting in front of Compassion, and in her free hand she was clutching and old and rather ratty stuffed bunny.

Wrath caught Compassion’s attention as he noticed she was in the living room. She hadn’t followed him out and Compassion remembered shutting the door. Either she had learned to phase through walls or touch them. No matter which was true, it was a matter of concern.

“Cole, you need to eat,” Cole’s mother pleaded gently. Compassion quickly busied himself eating and tried not to look at Wrath sprawled out on his couch watching the glowing box with interest enough that she wasn’t bothering him.

“Honey,” Cole’s mother began after a few moments of silence, addressing Cole’s father who busy reading some sort of large paper, “Don’t you think we ought to take Cole to the doctor?”

Cole’s father pursed his lips. Compassion, not really wanting to visit a doctor who might determined that he wasn’t actually Cole quickly protested, “I feel fine, m-mother,” he stumbled over her title and didn’t do a great job defending himself.

Cole’s father observed him, and Compassion felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was decided that they would take him to Outpatients, which as far as Compassion could determine was a lesser sort of doctor. Perhaps that would mean this doctor wouldn’t be able to tell he wasn’t Cole?

Compassion was told to get ‘ready’, which was confusing because he was ready? Wrath, overhearing the conversation, snickered.

“Compassion, compassion, compassion,” Wrath ticked, making his name sound like it was a noise not a name, “You’d blow your cover so quickly if I wasn’t here to help,” Compassion imagined Wrath as a snake with a rattling tail. It might sound nice, but it was a deceiving sound. But despite Compassion’s misgivings Wrath did coach him through what ‘getting ready’ meant.

Compassion looked over his shoulder while he brushed his teeth (Wrath’s reflection didn’t show up in mirrors), “How do you know what to do?” He asked.

Wrath shrugged, “I watched television most of the night and all this morning.” It replied, “It is surprisingly informative.” Compassion gave her an odd look, Cole’s mother had chastised Cole’s father for how late he had been up watching television. But perhaps it was a useful tool for learning the culture of mortals.

After Wrath got him ready, it was time to go to Outpatients. Compassion was loaded up in the car and Wrath slipped in after him. Cole’s younger sister insisted on coming, although Cole’s parents had told her it would be a boring trip, which took up the seat Wrath could have occupied. Instead Wrath slipped onto his lap. Compassion tried to remain as naturally seated as possible and avoided Wrath’s eyes (not that Wrath was looking at him, it seemed much more interested in the view from the window). It was surprising how real it felt.

Wrath felt just as real as everything else in the physical world. Even its’ clothes that it had just appeared in felt real. However there was something extra. It wasn’t as if touching Wrath was more real but there was something else there. Perhaps because he was touching a demon, a creature from the fade? Or perhaps it was whatever that bound them together, but touching Wrath felt both as real as anything else and as different from anything he had ever touched before.

It was a surreal experience that Compassion tried not to think about. He tried to focus on the feeling of the car seat against his back, the leather against his hands as he kept a firm grip on the end of the car seat. And for all his worth he resisted any desire to look at Wrath perched in his lap as if this wasn’t the most surreal experience imaginable. Perhaps for Wrath, it wasn’t. Maybe Wrath didn’t feel anything special at all. The thought gave Compassion’s stomach an uncomfortable feeling, but before he could wonder why, the car was stopped and he was told to get out.  

Compassion opened the car door and Wrath quickly jumped out so that Compassion could get out without it looked funny. He shuffled out and shut the door and observed the building. “White Spire Outpatients” was written in bold red letters on the front, and there was a frosted glass door that led inside. There wasn’t much parking space, and the building appeared to be situated in some sort of open air mall. Compassion felt that this meant it really was a lesser hospital and that it should be safer for him. Feeling a little bit more confident, he followed his family in.

Compassion followed Cole’s sister to a waiting area and took a seat beside her while his parents talked to the lady sitting behind the desk. Wrath walked around the room, exploring. Compassion watched it warily. It wasn’t like the demon could run. It was bound to him. It didn’t stop feelings that Wrath might bolt from making Compassion jumpy. The demon stayed within sight and seemed more curious in the patients then on figuring out how to run off. Compassion doubted it was concern that attracted Wrath, but it wasn’t as if it were a Despair demon. Compassion’s lips pursed and he wondered what she was thinking and if he should be angry with her.

Cole’s sister caught Compassion’s eye. She was sitting beside him, her legs folded beneath her with a wide book on her lap. The stuffed bunny had yet to leave her grasp and she appeared to be reading to it. Compassion wondered if she were too old for such things, but she looked so happy Compassion thought little of it. Did it matter if she were happy?

Cole’s mother, who Compassion had failed to notice take the open seat beside him, jostled his elbow slightly, “Cole, dear, let’s go.” Apparently Compassion had missed his name being called. Cole’s father stayed behind to watch Cole’s sister, which left Compassion and Cole’s mother to face the doctor (and of course Wrath who trailed behind him).

Chapter Text

Wrath followed Compassion into the small room where they waited, again for the doctor. (Wrath wondered why squishies despite being mortal chose to spend so much of their lives in waiting rooms) The room was filled with all sorts of strange instruments. Discrete glares from Compassion pulled Wrath away and over to its’ side, the side not occupied by Cole’s mother. It wasn’t like she could touch anything anyway, Wrath wasn’t sure why Compassion was so worried about her causing mischief.

A few horribly boring minutes passed before a blonde doctor walked in. He was young, a new doctor Wrath guessed, with shoulder length blonde hair pulled back into a half-ponytail, “Hello!” He said with a disarming smile that put Wrath immediately on edge. She didn’t trust men that were too charming, “I’m Dr. Anders.”

Wrath hovered by Compassion’s side. While “Dr. Anders” seemed nice, Wrath didn’t like that his eyes kept drifting in her direction. He couldn’t see her, could he? Nobody else had. What would make this doctor so special that he could? If it weren’t for the fact that Compassion might need her help to coach it through handling any questions Dr. Anders might ask, Wrath would have slipped away. If he could see her, he couldn’t confront her in front of Compassion and Cole’s mother. As long as she stuck by them she was safe. So, Wrath stayed by Compassion’s side, refusing to give into instinct that told her to run while she could.

Wrath’s generosity was ill spent. Dr. Anders gave Compassion the same report one would think someone who nearly died of starvation of exposure would get. Weak immune system and needs slowly start eating more food to gain back weight and should take it easy until he’s full recovered. There were no hard questions and Wrath’s help was unneeded.

The three got up and made their way out. Compassion, then Cole’s mother, then her. Wrath was halfway out the door when suddenly a hand wrapped around her throat and pulled her back. Wrath didn’t have the time to consider whether Compassion noticed her disappearance as she was slammed against a wall.

Her head spun at the sudden application of sharp pressure and Wrath forced her mind to focus. The pain wasn’t real, she reminded her. Her eyes refocused and she saw that Dr. Anders’s eyes were now glowing an unearthly blue. He certainly wasn’t really Anders anymore.

“Foul demon, how have you escaped?”

Despite the grip on her throat Wrath groaned, of all the spirits to run into, “A spirit of justice?” Wrath rasped out. They were the most annoying spirits to run into. They had the biggest chip on their shoulder and a huge stick up their buts as well. Wrath tried to imagine that his hand wasn’t there so she could slip out. The hand tightened instead, warning her to stop her attempts at freedom.

“You have yet to cause harm, but you walk on thin ice, demon,” Justice hissed in her face, Wrath recoiled. His host ate way too much garlic, “I will ask you again. How have you come from the Fade?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” Wrath hissed, swinging her legs into the possessed man’s chest. It probably would have been wiser to attempt diplomacy, but Wrath followed her nature. The body wheezed but Justice held firm.

“I do not answer to demons,” Justice hissed, “I noticed that you are in the company of a spirit of compassion. How has that come to pass?”

Anger swelled up in Wrath and spewed out of her, causing lava to nearly hit Justice in the face. It disappeared before it hit the ground but Justice let her go to escape damage coming to his vessel.

“Beast!” It roared, prepared to round on her.

Wrath put space between her and Justice, but he still guarded the door.

“Like you said, I’m not causing any trouble!” She defended, “I can’t cause trouble. I can’t touch anything - nobody but Compassion (and you), and Compassion is my meal ticket so I’m hardly going to hurt it.”

“Meal ticket?” Justice hissed in mistrust.

“A turn of phrase,” Wrath quickly amended, wishing she had the sly tongue of a Lust or Pride demon, “If it died, I would be stuck. Unable to move unless I drug its body around, and a moving dead body isn’t as common as it used to be.”

There was a tense silence between them. “You speak truth…” Justice stated, regarding her with distrust, “It would not be just to allow you no opportunity to prove yourself. Despite your foul nature, I sense you are not all you were in the Fade…”

Wrath wanted to roll her eyes. Justice honestly thought she needed his permission. Unlike Justice, she had her spirit powers. Besides choking her to death, he didn’t have a lot he could do. Wrath could spit lava. She was pretty sure she would win if it came through a fight.

“Thank you…” She said grudgingly. She could fight him, but right now all a fight would do would reveal her existence.

“But if anything happens to that boy-”

“I don’t intend to drag around a corpse.” Wrath snapped, “Can I go?” She asked rudely.

Justice stepped out of her way, “Of course.”

Wrath walked forward until they were abreast, “Why are you here, in that body, Justice?” She asked quietly.

Justice gave her a sidelong look. “There’s something wrong with this town, something dangerous. Anders volunteered his help discovering it.”

Wrath bit back a reply, a warning. Her ringed eyes could see that the blue in Justice was fraying, changing. His vessel’s eyes weren’t glowing with the pure blue light they should be. Justice risked becoming tainted. All spirits who possessed a body did. Justice could very well because a spirit of vengeance. However, a vengeance demon wouldn’t be too troublesome, unless it fixed its eyes on Wrath. As long as Wrath avoided that it didn’t really matter what happened to Justice. Removing a self-righteous Justice spirit could even be very useful. Wrath offered no warning.

“That is a body of your creation. Very curious.” Justice stared at her, but Wrath could feel that Anders eyes were on her. A science type, curious, wanting to know more. Wrath shuddered. Possessed demons who didn’t completely smother their hosts were creepy. Justice had allowed Anders to blend with him.

“It is.” Wrath agreed.

“I don’t suppose you know how.”

“Do I look like a spirit of wisdom?”

Justice laughed and Wrath shuddered again. Some spirits shouldn’t be allowed to laugh.

“No.” Justice replied and Wrath couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted.

“Hurry back to your keeper, demon,” Justice said, patting her head harder then Wrath would have liked. His touch wasn’t like Compassion’s. It didn’t have that overwhelming realness, though it was jarring and real enough to make her head spin. She wanted to run from it though, run from him.

Wrath gave him a fierce glare and stormed out, her pace quickening the further away she got. Her eyes looked around for Compassion and when she found it, she could have hugged it. Compassion looked at her strangely but the family was present and they couldn’t talk. Wrath didn’t cause any trouble, fearing Justice however much she denied it. Instead she followed Compassion to the car, reclaimed his lap, and was quiet the entire car ride. Compassion shot her strange, concerned looks that Wrath pretended she didn’t see.

Compassion wouldn’t react well to a possession, even by a spirit, in White Spire so Wrath decided to keep it a secret. Compassion would just complain, or worse, want them to do something. Or, maybe it would want to befriend Justice. Wrath didn’t want to see Justice again. Lying by omission was a great way to get out of seeing Justice again.

Chapter Text

Compassion watched Wrath warily the entire ride home. Something had happened at the clinic. It had stayed behind, barely catching up to them. Compassion had been worried he was going to have do something to keep Cole’s family from leaving without it. Luckily, Wrath had caught up. He wondered what had happened to make her linger. There was no point in asking it, unless Wrath was in its’ better moods, Compassion wouldn’t get anywhere. And when Wrath was in its’ better moods it volunteered information. Asking for help rarely got Compassion anywhere with the demon.

They arrived at home, and everyone piled out of the car and back into the house. Compassion wondered what exactly he was supposed to do. Cole’s parents seemed to be leaving it up to him. They didn’t want to press him to do anything he wasn’t ready to do. Compassion spent the next few days figuring out how human bodies worked and how to be human.

Wrath was struggling not to go stir crazy. Wrath demons were always on the move, so being trapped in one place was starting to fray on Wrath’s nerves.

“Oooh yes, you’ve master how to brush your teeth, you gangly beast,” Wrath sneered, one morning, sitting on the closed toilet to Compassion’s side.

Compassion tried not to smile, that would only make matters worse. He was getting used to Wrath’s barbed words and its’ mocking words were loosing their effect. Or perhaps her quips were just less bitting then usual. It was hard to tell.

“Rush of air, it slips through my hands again. No slipping involves its’ moving. It’s not moving. Because I’m not really-”

Wrath yelled in frustration, standing up. For a moment Compassion thought it would really strike him. The two spirits stared at each other. “Yes, yes,” Wrath sneered after a few moments, its’ chest still heaving as it resisted lashing out, “You have the better end of this deal. You don’t need to remind me every few hours, spirit. I never truly forget.”

Wrath stormed out of the bathroom and Compassion watched it go. He sighed and finished brushing his teeth. He had pushed Wrath a little too far. Compassion hadn’t even been trying to. All he did was voice its’ thoughts. Compassion could rarely do that these days. People’s thoughts were slippery, like fish just under the surface. He could see them, but he couldn’t see them perfectly. Wrath was a little easier to read. Her fish liked to jump out of the water.

Compassion walked out of the bathroom and looked around for the demon. It was right where he expected it to be, sitting beside Cole’s sister watching television. Some movie was playing right now, “the Legend of the Warden”, it was an animated movie based off some old myth. His sister had watched it several times, Wrath apparently liked it too.

“You’re watching that again?” He asked curiously, talking to Cole’s sister and Wrath at the same time.

His sister turned her head and smiled, “Mhm!” She chirped, “It’s my favorite!” She hugged her stuffed bunny to her chest.

Wrath shrugged its shoulders, kicking its legs over the couch, watching the movie upside down. Compassion focused his eyes on her face, and not the way her skirt was dangerously close to flipping over. Was this some sort of revenge, Compassion wondered. Wrath wasn’t a lust demon, so why was it showing off its’ female legs so provocatively. Was it simply unaware.

The way Wrath cast its’ ringed eyes up at him and stated blandly, “Like she said, it’s her favorite movie. It’s not like she’s going to watch anything else. It’s not too bad. They took out all the death and gore though, it’s just alluded to. At least they show her family being murdered, not the blood, but damn, they don’t hold their punches here. I respect these film makers!”

Compassion shook his head. At least Wrath was satisfying its bloodlust in a nonviolent way. Deliberately looking away from Wrath’s legs, his eyes had moved back without him fully realizing it, Compassion headed to the kitchen. He was better in the kitchen now and he could ‘fix’ food (he didn’t know why humans referred to creating food as ‘fixing it’. The food wasn’t broken).

“Are you hungry?” He asked his sister, poking his head out of the kitchen area. The little girl nodded, barely paying him attention, and Compassion went to make them something to eat.

Wrath lazily wandered in. Compassion looked at her questioningly. “Some cringe worthy romance scene.” It explained.

“I’m sorry,” Compassion muttered, quietly enough that Cole’s sister wouldn’t overhear.

Wrath was sitting on the counter top beside him. Its shoulders made the same shrugging motion, “What, like you care?”

Frustration mounted in Compassion but he let it go. Wrath couldn’t gracefully accept apologies. It wasn’t in its’ nature. It’s barbed reply was about as close to an ‘I forgive you’ as Compassion could expect. However, that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“Cole’s parents were talking about school this morning.”

Compassion about dropped his butter knife.

“You’re going to be starting at the end of the week. If I understand the calendar correctly, that’s in two days. They’re going to tell you over dinner, try to act surprised.”

“Why…?” Compassion turned to look at the demon fully.

Wrath shrugged, apparently that was a favorite gesture, Compassion thought unkindly, “You don’t actuallyhandle surprise very well. I’d rather you not have a panic attack in front of our host family. Then they’ll take you to someone to fix your head, only for that person to realize just how much is fully wrong with it. Then you get exposed and my fate is tied to yours-”

“Yes, I got it,” Compassion cut off quietly finishing the sandwich, “You don’t actually care. Just about yourself.”

“I’m a demon, Compassion. Of course I don’t care.”

So much for playing nice, Compassion thought bitterly as he took the prepared sandwiches out to his sister. He sat beside her, deliberately sitting in Wrath’s spot.

“Cole?” The young girl asked.

“Yes?”

“Can you sit over here?” The girl smiled, pointing to her other side.

Compassion gave her a confused look but complied and Wrath reclaimed her spot. Compassion stared at his sister, who was already absorbed in her movie. Could she see Wrath, or at least, sense her presence, or was this just an odd request that children sometimes made? Wrath shook its’ head. It didn’t know either.

Chapter Text

School sucked, Wrath concluded within hours within the establishment. At first she thought it would be exciting. The bus ride was hell. No one could see her and there was no where to sit. People phased right through her which made her angry. She deserved to be seen and noticed! Compassion couldn’t even amuse her because if it were seen talking to air it would never fit in.

The bus wasn’t a complete waste, Compassion met a boy in its’ year named Rhys and the two seemed to get along. Rhys, for some reason beyond Wrath’s understanding, seemed to have decided that Compassion was going to be his friend, and Compassion just had to go along with it. Wrath was a little envious that someone had Compassion’s attention other than her. She contemplated setting his hair on fire until she realized why that would be more troublesome. Besides, she didn’t want Compassion, she was just bored.  

The mismatched pair walked to Compassion’s class but Wrath remained outside. She had no desire to listen to some boring lecture about numbers. The hallways were empty which gave Wrath the opportunity to test out her powers, Compassion didn’t like it when she practicing when it was possible for others to see. Although Wrath had yet to succeed in anyone but Compassion and Justice seeing her (it was even unclear to her if his host, Dr. Anders, could see her).

She was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall of Compassion’s classroom, trying to pick up a penny that was on the ground. Her hand, no matter how much she tried, kept passing through it.

“Oh, what to we have here?”

Wrath nearly jumped out of her skin. Suddenly there were two arms on either side of her head and there was a face in hers. Well not in her face, but if their noses could brush they would be. It was a male face, to Wrath’s surprise. A nice face, to, Wrath thought, or at least, she thought it was nice. His hair was red, and she liked that color.

“What you can see me?” Wrath managed to say after a few moments, realizing she was staring stupidly at the highschooler.

“Oh, I can see you, little Wrath demon~” The student purred.

Wrath’s ringed eyes flashed and bore into his, “Purple eyes?” She mumbled aloud, looking into the handsome student’s face. He had the body of a highschooler (though he was missing the weird red skin rash that everyone seemed to have to varying degrees, was it contagious?) but his eyes were not only strange colored but they looked old. Not to mention the look he was giving her, she had seen that look before. It had never been directed at her before, but she knew it, “You’re an abomination.”

The student inclined his head in a mock bow, causing their foreheads to ghost, not touching, not that Wrath could be touched. Still she didn’t like the idea of him phasing through her body.

“Aren’t you clever~” The abomination purred with a cat-like grin.

Wrath grimaced. It really wasn’t hard to figure out what demon was living in that human shell, “A desire demon.”

“Ding, ding~” The abomination laughed, “But don’t call me that. This body was called Conner when the soul still controlled it.” His eyes moved from her face to her body. He was a desire demon but he didn’t seem focused on her female areas, instead he looked at her horns, her unnaturally textured hair, and her other more demonic features.

“You’re not an abomination, but you’re not a spirit either. How rare.” The abomination called ‘Conner’ licked his lips, looking her up and down.

“You haven’t forsaken your namesake.” Wrath threw out sarcastically.

“Not a namesake, but a nature,” Conner pointed out. “How did you wiggle out of the Fade? You have a gender and a body and everything? Do you have a name too?”

Wrath froze, “Uh… um…” Why should she have a name? Her mind screamed indigently. She was Wrath, why should she call herself anything else? Yet, now that Conner mentioned it, the fact that she didn’t have a name, did bother her. Compassion had a name, even if she refused to acknowledge it. He shouldn’t have anything she didn’t.

“No name?” Conner asked, slyly, “I could name you, if you’d like?”

“Why should I like that?” Wrath spat, immediately defensive against this strange creature that seemed to easily pick her apart.

Conner laughed, “Such bitter words for such a cute face.”

“I am also true to my nature.” Wrath acknowledged with a sinister and bitter grin.

The abomination was a cheerful one or at least he found her funny. He kept laughing and looking at her strangely, making Wrath feel uncomfortable.

“You look like a Sarah.”

“No.” Wrath answered immediately.

Conner laughed and sat down beside her. Sitting down, he was still taller than she was, but then, so was everyone since she seemed to be unnaturally sized. “So what are you doing here, Anna?”

“Not that either! And I never said I would let you pick a name for me!” Wrath seethed before acknowledging his question. She huffed and turned her head away but answer, “I fell through the Fade and now I’m linked to a spirit of Compassion.”

“Caroline. Ah, yes, I noticed him.”

“That’s a terrible name. Why are you here, in this particular school anyway?”

Conner nodded, “What do you mean, Lucy?”  

“Not that either. I mean, the world is a big place, and abominations aren’t as abundant as they used to be, so how did we happen to cross paths?”

“The Fade is thin here, Yvette, can’t you feel it? It draws spirits and demons and makes it easier to slip through into their minds. Not all of us get our own body.”

“No.” Wrath gave him a narrowed eyed look, “That explains why Justice is here.”

Conner nodded, “Nosy spirit,” he spat. His purple eyes looked her up and down again, like a cat.

“What was up with that penny you were playing with, Darcy? Are you squished between here and there?”

“That’s a boy’s name.” Wrath pointed out before sneering, “And could you be anymore vague about what you mean?”

“You know what I mean though, Mara.”

“Tch. I know you’re annoying…” Wrath snapped, folding her arms over her chest. Conner’s eyes followed her movements, but when Wrath growled and the red took over her eyes, he looked away. Not that he looked sorry or nervous. He just have her a cheeky grin that made her wish she could punch it off him.

“I can’t touch anything, except for Compassion and Justice…”

“So what, you can only touch things from the Fade?” Conner asked, he reached out to grab her but his hand phased through.

Wrath’s eyes flashed dangerously when she noticed where he tried to grab her, “You’re LUCKY, abomination.” She growled lowly.

“Heh, you sound just like a templar, Mara.” Conner teased with a grin that Wrath was itching to knock off.

“I guess this body isn’t connected to the Fade… but then why could Justice touch you?”

Wrath frowned, now that Conner mentioned it, it really didn’t make sense, “I guess because he and his host are like… well they’re different but they’re the same…?”

“Wisdom spirit you are not.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re so tightly wound, Mara~” Conner whined, before immediately perking up, “I know what will make you feel better!”

“What?” Wrath asked cautiously, doubting she was going to like where this went.

“You’re used to being touched, yeah?” Conner asked. Wrath nodded her head slowly.

“Well, I heard in physics, which is an awful class, by the way Mara, I only went at the beginning, and I haven’t been back in months and don’t regret a thing. But it was some sort of law that the squishes made up that if you touch something it touches you back. You’re still working by Fade logic, which the longer you’re out of  the less sense it makes. You’re only used to half of the rules. So if you focus on letting yourself be touched, touching back, as it were,” Conner snickered, “Then you’ll be able to touch.”

“That is ridiculous, you just want an excuse to try to touch me.”

“Guilty!” Conner answered shamelessly, “But it might work and your penny trick didn’t seem to be going anywhere.”

Wrath frowned. The abomination had a point, her practice hadn’t been anything that could be equated to the word ‘success’. Her teeth gritted together, “Fine,” she all but sneered.

“Yay!” Conner clapped his hands. Wrath was beginning to question why she thought his eyes looked old. He was acting like a child. “Alright, just focus on being touched.”

Wrath did sneer this time. What did that even mean?! “Just watch your hands,” she growled.

Conner reached for her hand and Wrath tried to imagine the pressure she should feel. His hand went through. Disappointment was clear on his face, and Wrath felt it too, swirling unpleasantly in her gut.

“Come on, are you even trying?” He baited. Wrath’s eyes flashed. If she weren’t so easily provoked she would have noticed that he was trying to get a reaction out of her, to make her try harder. But she was that easily provoked and she fell for his trap, hook line and sinker.

“I am trying,” she snapped. She focused all her attention on his hand as it slowly went for her cheek. Compassion had never touched her cheek but Wrath tried to think of what it would be like if he did. His fingers were long and they would curl under her chin - Wrath mentally pushed the thought away Conner’s fingers weren’t that long, what should they feel like?

Then to Wrath’s surprise she felt them. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t how Compassion’s touch felt or even Justice’s. It was a ghosting sensation, almost like how it been before she could phase through walls. There was more texture there than the wall but it was the closest sensation she could equate it to. Conner smirked, “Hey you got it, sort of, you’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” He asked. The bell run before Wrath could think of a stinging reply. Conner was up on his feet as if he hadn’t been cupping Wrath’s cheek a second prior.

“See you around, Mara.” Conner said over his shoulder, before walking off just before the kids rushed out of class.

Wrath swore under her breath, when had she let him name her? Wrath put a hand to her cheek ‘Mara huh…?’ she thought looking at her feet. She didn’t even care that people were walking through her right now. Wrath decided that she liked the name, even if that cheeky desire abomination had given it to her. She would keep it.