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Roy had just been trying to talk to his friends when some shit had to happen.
For the second time in his life, he noticed a shadow looming over him—which happened to be a horrific entity.
A demon. Great.
He had barely any time to process the two kids running after it and a literal priest right on their heels before it, well, possessed him?
Yeah, no better synonym for it. He got literally possessed, right in the middle of the street.
An odd feeling, suddenly losing control of your body and being only half aware of what's happening. Terrifying, but it'd only lasted a moment.
The priest shunned the demon with a cross, and…
Well, it was hard to describe.
The demon’s essence exiting his innards through his mouth.
Maybe not that hard to describe.
Disgusting, a repulsive, repugnant feeling.
Roy already hated… vomit. It bothered him to his core.
Thinking about it freaked him out, seeing others do it sent him into literal panic attacks. Any mention of the word or any of its synonyms gave him anxiety, and the slightest hint of nausea could ruin his day.
The worst possible thing? Him being sick. If he threw up, he would have actual flashbacks for weeks, months. He'd never forget it. The idea of it happening made his nerves bite at his brain until he somehow distracted or calmed himself.
He felt cursed.
So this? This was horrid.
His worst fear mingled with the fact it didn't even feel like it should, it felt worse, it felt violating.
He’d collapsed to the ground, hunched over as horns disappeared from his head and the trio of demon-hunters ran off. He panted, processing what had just happened.
He processed it rather quickly. Pure terror was wrapping itself around his head, fear digging its claws into his heart, he felt like he couldn't breathe.
Hands scraped from hitting the pavement, they shook, glued to where he kneeled. His eyes were wide, quick breaths escaping him as raw dread took over.
Thoughts mingled—just the fact it happened and it was absolutely awful hurt like nothing else, but horror beat in his mind, what if he was sick again? What if one of his friends got sick, from the sight, from anything? What if that demon came back? What if, what if, what if.
“Roy,” Robert said with nothing but concern in his voice. His hand was on the boy’s shoulder, Ross’s was as well.
Both of Roy’s friends knew how bad his phobia was. They’d witnessed his anxieties and issues first hand. But this? This was some whole other kind of shit.
Ross kneeled beside him, eyebrows furrowed.
Roy could still feel it dripping from his mouth—what even was it? Thinking about it made him feel worse.
He felt disconnected from all that was happening around him.
He raised a hand to hover about his mouth, entire body trembling.
A feeling that he identified as unmistakable nausea coursed through him, scaring him to the core. Who wouldn't feel sick?
He clasped his hands completely over his mouth, shutting his eyes and trying to somehow regulate his breathing.
His friends were trying to talk to him, but he could barely process their words.
“Hey, look at me,” Robert urged, his voice soft. Roy opened his eyes, hesitantly glancing over to the boy.
“Breathe, man. In, and out,” he murmured.
Roy could feel Ross’s thumb rubbing circles into his shoulder. He tried desperately to focus on that, on breathing, on anything but what had happened. He brought his eyes back to the ground.
He breathed—shakily, but repeatedly.
It wasn't steady, but at least he wasn't hyperventilating anymore.
“Good,” Ross said quietly.
Part of him felt embarrassed about this whole situation. Part of him was also well aware he was just possessed by an actual demon and maybe this was a valid reaction.
His eyes fluttered closed again as his breath evened for the most part, hands leaving his mouth and resting in his lap as he sat up.
He took a final breath, opening his eyes once more. He was still very overwhelmed, his thoughts still echoed in tormenting unison, but he didn't feel like his body was collapsing in on itself anymore.
Ross and Robert looked concerned, both kneeling beside him.
Gods, he was so thankful for his friends.
He doesn't know what he would've done had they not been there. Had that happened without them by his side.
That shouldn't have happened in the first place.
He felt… gross. He didn't want to touch himself or really anything at all, he didn't really want to be existing in the moment, but he kept himself collected.
It was surely noticeable—the way he was shaking. Roy knew he noticed it.
Ross stood, offering Roy a hand.
He hesitated for a moment, but did take it.
Robert followed them up, and they stood in silence.
Roy stared at the ground.
A cool wind was blowing—it would be calming, if Roy wasn't already shivering.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Robert said, breaking the silence. Roy looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed.
He let out a small sigh. He wished this didn't affect him so badly.
His gaze fell to the ground once more.
Gathering some courage, he choked out a few words.
“I feel… awful.”
He wasn't lying at all, he felt absolutely horrible. Disgusting, wrong on so many levels. He wasn't sure how to put it in words.
Ross thought for a moment.
“Do you wanna come over to my place for a bit? Instead of your house or outside, it'd be… quieter?” he offered.
Roy looked up at him—feeling his heart practically swell.
“...Yeah,” he replied.
Robert smiled at the two of them.
“Then let's go, dudes. Before they come back or something.”
Roy cringed briefly at the thought, but the trio was soon on their way.
The walk there was very quiet. Roy was mostly calmed down—but that feeling.
The awful, awful feeling. It kept ringing around in his brain, his hands still trembled.
He noticed Robert staring for a moment, catching his eye. The boy gave him a soft, reassuring smile. Roy tried his best to return it.
It briefly stopped him from spiraling.
This would stick with him, he knew it would. He had no real sense of comfort aside from his friends.
But at least he had his friends—he was rather thankful for that.
These two brought him a comfort he couldn't explain, it battled his nerves like nothing else. Just them being here on either side of him brought a sense of safety.
At some point, they arrived at Ross’s house, the boy briefly greeting his mom before bringing the others to his room.
The trio spent the rest of the evening chatting quietly on Ross’s bed, Roy between the two. They soothed him, made small talk, and it felt okay.
Roy felt okay.
And he wasn't sure he could ever thank them enough.