Work Text:
The trunk of a tree is rough against her back where she is pressed into it, the bark digging into her uncomfortably, but it also serves to ground her, giving her something to focus on other than her beating heart. Esther whimpers, slapping a hand against her mouth as something walks right past her, leaves crunching beneath its feet. Esther ducks around the trunk, seeing an unnaturally tall woman.
She has long, white, streaming hair akin to a waterfall and wears a grey cloak; the woman opens her mouth, and she doesn’t speak words. Instead, a haunting melody rings out, bouncing amongst the trees.
The woman vocalizes for a solid minute and holds that note. It swells like the tide, drawing Esther in for a split second before a hand clamps down on her shoulder, nearly scaring her to death.
She yelps, spinning around to see it’s only Abaddon. “Holy crap!” she hisses. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”
Abaddon remains unbothered. “It isn’t me you have to worry about,” he murmurs and nods his head in the direction the woman is moving towards. “I told you it wasn’t a smart idea to mess with a banshee, Esther.”
Esther scoffs. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”
“You’ve been saying that for the last thirty minutes.”
“Because we’re fine, that’s why,” she bites out rudely.
Abaddon’s face is unreadable, and he only gives her a sarcastic, “mm-hmm, so you say.”
Esther turns back to make sure the banshee is still gone. “Don’t you dare give me ’tude,” she grumbles.
Abaddon presses against her back, also looking out, and mutters, “I’ll give you whatever I please, witch.”
She huffs. If they weren’t trying to not die right now, she would’ve punched Abaddon in the face.
The banshee’s song fades into the distance, but the air still trembles with its echo. Esther forces herself to breathe, though her lungs feel too small for the forest’s cold, damp air.
Abaddon leans in, voice low. “We need to move. Quietly. Before she comes back.”
Esther nods, but her legs feel like wet clay. She pushes off the tree, brushing bark flakes from her jacket. “Things have been worse.” She tries to force herself to smile. “I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
Abaddon gives her a flat look. “What’s your plan?”
She shrugs weakly; her smile straining. It doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hope for the best?”
He sighs, long-suffering. “That’s a terrible plan, Esther...”
She opens her mouth to argue, but the banshee’s voice rises again—closer this time, sharper, like the sound of a metal blade dragging across stone.
Esther grabs his wrist, the touch sending a pleasant shock through his core. “We don’t have time. I’ll distract her while you destroy her.”
Abaddon blinks. “You? Distract that?” he gestures wildly toward the sound. “Is today just full of you making bad decisions?!”
“Look, you know I’m faster,” she says simply. “And, well, do you have a better plan, demon boy?”
He hates that she’s right. He hates even more that this is only making him more worried about her.
“Fine,” he whispers. “But if you die, you better haunt me.” He cannot go back to being alone and without a friend...
She giggles and jokes lightly. “You got it, babe.”
His heart stutters. He knows Esther is far too innocent in her affectionate manners towards him to realize what her pet names actually do to him... But sometimes he likes to believe she knows his true feelings for her and is just teasing him. It keeps him sane most nights.
The banshee glides back into view between the trees, her hair floating as if underwater. Her cloak drags across the ground without disturbing a single leaf. Her mouth opens, and the melody that pours out is no longer beautiful—it’s jagged, frantic, a warning and a threat all at once.
Esther steps out from behind the tree before she can talk herself out of it.
“Hey!” she shouts, voice cracking. “Over here!”
The banshee’s head snaps toward her, revealing her ghastly gaunt face, her movements too sharp to be human. Her eyes glow a pale, mournful blue.
Abaddon slips away into the shadows behind Esther, silent as smoke, sending her one last concerned look.
The banshee’s song rises, swirling around Esther like a cold wind. Her knees buckle. Her vision blurs at the edges. She forces herself to stay upright. A banshee’s wail usually signals someone’s impending death—let’s just hope it’s not hers.
“Come on,” she whispers to herself. “Just a little longer. Hurry, Abbs,” she mutters, her eyes searching for any trace of the demon.
The banshee drifts closer, towering over Esther’s small frame. Her breath is cold enough to sting. Esther’s pulse hammers so loudly she’s sure the creature can hear it.
Then the banshee lifts a hand, reaching toward Esther’s cheek with long, trembling claw-like fingers.
Esther swallows hard. “Abaddon,” she whispers. “Now would be a great time, dude.”
A sudden flare of light bursts behind the banshee. Abaddon lunges from the darkness, his hand wrapped around a charm etched with runes that glows like embers in his other hand, a dagger he uses to slam deep into the banshee’s back, anchoring himself to her as it embeds itself into her flesh.
The creature shrieks—not a song this time, but a raw, piercing wail that shakes the branches overhead.
Esther recoils and stumbles back, covering her ears.
The banshee twists, fighting to tear Abaddon off of her. Abaddon holds steady, jaw clenched, muscles taut.
“Esther!” he shouts. “Say the words!”
Her mind blanks. “What words?!”
“The ones I taught you!”
“You teach me a lot of things, Abby!”
“THE BANISHING ONES!”
“Oh, yeah! Right!”
She scrambles to remember, heart pounding. The banshee’s hands lunge towards Abaddon, her claws swiping behind her, hellbent on ripping him off of her. He dodges, barely.
Esther inhales sharply and shouts the incantation, her voice trembling but loud enough to cut through the banshee’s wail.
The charm he holds in his hand flares brighter. The banshee’s form shudders, then begins to unravel like smoke pulled apart by wind.
Her final cry echoes through the forest before fading into silence. Abaddon manages to land on his feet as he hits the ground.
And then... She’s gone.
The forest is still. Too still.
Esther collapses onto a fallen log, shaking. Abaddon moves to stand over her, breathing hard, hair mussed, eyes dark with something she can’t read.
He kneels in front of her and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t you ever try that again.”
She blinks, but her arms automatically wrap around Abaddon, returning the hug. “Try what?”
“Using yourself as bait. Do not ever do that again.” He commands, his voice rougher than usual. “You could have been hurt.”
She tries to laugh, but it comes out thin. She pulls away to look at him. “Yeah, but I’m fine, Abby.”
He doesn’t smile; his eyes harden.
She softens. “I’m okay. Really.”
“You’re reckless,” he mutters. “And stubborn. And—”
He stops himself.
“And what?” she asks quietly.
He looks away. “And I don’t want to lose you.”
Her breath catches. She feels warmth bloom in her chest despite the cold forest air.
“Well,” she says softly, cupping his face and smiling shyly, “you didn’t. I’m still here.”
Abaddon finally meets her eyes. There’s something unguarded there, something she’s never seen before.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “You are.”
They sit there for a long moment, the silence between them warm instead of tense.
Finally, Esther exhales. “So… I guess because she’s dead.” A smirk breaks out on her face. “That means all the spoils go to me.”
Abaddon stands with a resigned sigh and offers her his hand. “Fine. We will go collect her treasures. But after that we go to our home.”
She takes it, her fingers brushing his, and for once, he doesn’t pull away.
They walk hand in hand, Esther grinning from ear to ear, replaying his words: ‘our home.’
She likes the sound of that~.