It's not fair, just let me perfect it
Don't wanna live a life that was comprehensive
'cause seeing clear would be a bad idea.
---
While Gabriella was unconscious, and unable to open her eyes or move, her mind was in had three theories as to why she collapsed.
One; the fact that her knees hadn't stopped bleeding from the moment she fell could quite possibly contribute to extensive blood loss and result in her body shutting down. Likeliness? One half of a percent.
Two; the blow to the temple she'd received from Max could also have made her half conscious from the start, and mixed with the pain and blood loss in her knees made her too weak to remain conscious. Probability? Another Half of a percent.
And three; she had practically pinned Troy down like freaking Nala to Simba, straddling his waist and making their faces dangerously close. Not to mention how fast her heart was racing when Troy had protected her, added with the mind-blanking lack of distance between them. Chances of this being her reason? Ninety-nine percent.
Well, there was always the fourth option of the first three mixed together, but the third option just took up too much room to even consider it. Plus, she was exhausted to the point that her thoughts were no longer coherent and slurred like she was drunk and on drugs. Or maybe being knocked out just did that to a girl. The only comfort now was those newly built walls around her mind, still standing strong. A constant reminder; It's okay, we're still here.
Seeing Max had brought a strange feeling of nostalgia to her. This was Troy's brother. He'd been with Troy since the day he was born. He knew everything about Troy. Yet they hated each other. It was like some kind of soap opera plot, except they were demons who could result to violence much too graphic for daily television watched by a majority of the city's elderly.
They looked alike, too, Troy and Max. Even though their hair was a different color, they wore it in similar fashions. They had the same firm jaw line and fierce eyes, even though they were different colors. And they both were tall and muscular, though they were toned down.
But something about seeing Max scared her-- apart from the fact that she was being chased and attacked by a demon. The moment before the medallion let out that horrible screech, Max's eyes had turned red, and she could have sworn she saw two large horns protruding from the sides of his head.
For less than a second, Max had been the darkest and most terrifying creature she'd ever seen. But then he collapsed and looked like a person again, right after the medallion screamed.
And what scared her more was Troy's eyes when he pinned his brother to the wall. The dark blue rings around his eyes had turned black, and around the black had become red as embers.
A crowbar on fire.
It was terrifying because in that moment, Troy looked almost as dark as Max. Gabriella didn't want Troy to feel evil, she didn't want unpleasant chills of fear down her spine when she saw him, because Troy wasn't supposed to be evil. He was the good guy. How could someone so obviously pure be the son of the devil?
That was the purpose of her pinning him down. She needed to see his eyes. She needed to see only the blue irises that she loved. Loved? Yeah, she loved his eyes. But when she really had come within such a close proximity, so many other idea's clouded her mind and she felt dizzy. And that's when she collapsed.
She couldn't remember what his eyes looked like in that moment. Were they blue again? Or did they still burn with Hell's flames?
---
Troy could feel the blood rushing to his head, and the hard floor on his scalp was slightly painful, but he couldn't find the energy to change his position. Which was, for some strange reason, upside-down, with his feet handing over the back of the couch and his back pressed against the cushions. Why? He was just in the mood for it. Sometimes looking at the world from a different perspective was nice, even if it had to be as literal as this. But to be honest, not many things were making sense right now, so maybe this was right-side-up and not upside-down.
Maybe...
Or maybe this was side ways? The thought made him turn his head a bit. Anyone who walked in right now might think he was on acid. He laughed dryly. Hardly happy enough to be tripping.
Hid head still hurt, and laying on it wasn't helping. But the problem was, so did everything else, and moving didn't feel like a good option. Chad and Jason had returned to work after staying with Gabriella for a while, saying they needed the money because rent was due in a few weeks.
Work. He thought. If I worked, what would I do?
There wasn't much he knew how to do here. He didn't even know what kind of jobs there were. Except for McDonald's, cab driver (Chad's job), an athletic trainer at the gym (Jason), and a nurse (Sharpay). Oh well, one less thing to worry about.
Though he wasn't particularly worried right now. No, the emotion wasn't worry. It wasn't any better than worry, but it wasn't worry. The sense of relief that he'd expected to come with catching Max was absent, missing in action, gone. Too many doors for more problems had opened.
The emotion was something he couldn't name, but it left a twisting in his gut that could almost be qualified as a stomach ache, but not really. Emotionless? No...there was something there.
One problem was the fact that it hurt. The mind battle fucking hurt. It wasn't supposed to physically hurt! The pain that came with a normal mind battle was to your consciousness, not your actual head. And it had injured him; Troy had tasted blood every time he was attacked. But why? He would have to ask Aratinga when he came back from wherever he always went to.
Another problem; his bird was always dissapearing! Was he meeting other birds? Looking for Troy's brothers? Stealing french fries from unsuspecting people eating lunch? No, none of those could work, because wherever he went, it was too far for them to connect in their heads, which is pretty far. Out-of-New-York-State far.
And a third problem; Gabriella Montez was the most frustrating thing he'd ever seen in his life. Not by her fault in anyway. Which was even more agitating, because he couldn't blame her for frustrating him. Nothing had put his self control to the test like she did. Why'd she have to walk with that innocent sway of her hips? Why did her eyes have to swirl all brown and pretty-like? Why'd she have to be so selfless, kind, and brave?
Why did he feel like touching her would be a horribly selfish act? Not that Troy should care about being bad; he was the Devil's son, after all. But, damn it, Gabriella made him want to be good. She was the exact opposite of those she-devils he'd been stuck with in Hell. The only she-devil he'd been fond of in anyway, was Tilly, his host-mother. But that fondness was nothing like the fondness he felt for Gabriella.
There was one more problem regarding Hanson (because three problems clearly wasn't enough), but that would have to be discussed later, because thinking about it now would only make his head hurt more.
Troy swung his legs to the side and pushed himself up into an upright sitting position and leaned his head back, staring at the white ceiling. Hanging upside down had left a feint buzz in his head, sort of like after your first beer, without the giddiness of being drunk. After mulling over his problems, Troy sort of felt blank, like he couldn't decide on what emotion to feel so he felt none at all. Even his twisting stomach sat still. Maybe he was over tired. It was midnight, after all, and he hadn't slept well the night before.
He trudged to his bedroom after downing a glass of water and collapsed into his four-poster bed. It didn't take long to fall asleep, in fact, he was out the second his head hit the pillow.
---
The ambassador could have sang with joy, the wide smile on his face crinkling the edges of his eyes. He placed a paper on the page of the book he had open before him and shut it. Slipping it into an old purple rag, he scurried out of his office area and into the High Devil's Throne. He shivered, drawing his cloak closer around him with one arm. His red-eyes traveled up to the breath-takingly large block of blue ice at the end of the corridor. It's icy limbs had begun to creep out of it's place, over-taking the rock walls that surrounded it. The temperatures had dropped at least thirty degrees from the usual one-hundred-twenty.
Hell was freezing over.
The ambassador had a book of sayings that the humans used, and "when Hell freezes over" was one that he had once found rather humorous. He would think, That's just silly! Hell could never freeze over!. And that was, of course, the point of the saying, but it still made him chuckle. But not humans. He found them rather disgusting.
And now, now that Hell was freezing over, that saying brought him no humor. It probably never would again, should the boy be able to capture his brothers. In fact, it made him dislike humans even more. How could they mock such serious occasions? Did they not understand what Hell's freezing meant? Nobody could enter Hell to receive their punishments for their sins; they would reside in Purgatory for all of eternity, with nobody to control them! What if the portal to Purgatory opened? The living dead would take over Earth, because there would be no demons to assist the angels in capturing them. Purgatory was far too large for just heaven to control it. It was where those who lived in Heaven or Hell went when they died.
He bumped into a skittish she-devil as he walked. She bowed and apologized profusely before running away, carrying a bucket of cloths that needed to be cleaned. He didn't even have time to dismiss her worries.
The High Devil's Throne was filled with she-devils, because their presence was helping the Devil's nervous soul to relax. That was what they were made for; keeping the Devil's soul calm, working the souls, and reproducing.
At least, that was what he'd thought until today. Sure, they were useful for those things, and they didn't complain, but their creation was done by a genius. Someone such as a Devil would not create new souls just for slavery. The idea was ludicrous. But, of course, everyone had been manipulated into thinking such things.
How could anyone expect their creation to have a secret motive?
Reaching the throne, the ambassador dismissed everyone in the room with a wave of his hand. The Devil looked pale and fragile, panting and sagging in his head leaned forward, his eyes half closed. Beads of sweat ran down his face. The once two-foot horns behind his ears were reduced by half, deteriorating bit by bit. It was heart-breaking, seeing his master in such a state.
"Damian?" The Devil rasped, wondering why the she-devils had been dismissed. The ambassador layed the book on one of the throne's arms, brushing away the purple rag. The book was large and tattered, some pages ripped and others missing completely. He opened it to the page he had marked earlier, ignoring the white paper that fluttered to the floor.
Aratinga landed on the Devil's shoulder, eying the words on the paper.
"Ah!" The ambassador cried happily. "Wonderful timing, bird. You wouldn't want to miss this."
Aratinga blinked. Damian usually wasn't the least bit happy to see him. In fact, he turned quite sour whenever the bird came around.
Something big must have happened.
"Right here," He said, tapping his finger repeatedly on the page, sending little bits of dust off the paper. His eyes were gleaming like they'd never seen. "Nicholas, our first Devil, was an absolute genius!"
The High Devil leaned over the page, his eyes growing wider by the second. His lips started forming the words he read as Aratinga flapped his wings and began shaking with enthusiasm. The ambassador looked like a child, earning praise from his parents as the two got more and more excited.
"Ah.." The Devil breathed, lost for words. Even he, who was always calm and composed, was speechless.
"M-mother's...blessing?" Aratinga blinked. "But..she-devils die after giving birth!"
"A true death," Damian replied. "Does not one "dies", they simply move onto one of the four realms; Earth, Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. When she-devils give birth, they move to Purgatory."
"So.." The Devil said, finding his voice. "We just need to summon her from Purgatory.." His eyes were unreadable. Was he happy? Did he wish to meet his birth mother?
"Yes." The ambassador said, his voice rising with excitement. Aratinga looked rather doubtful. His beak was sealed shut tightly, staring at the page unhappily.
"But.." He said quietly. "You need live, female human blood directly applied to the summoning circle. And it's clear that you," He said to the Devil. "are not strong enough to erase memories. How can we acquire such a thing?"
Damian scowled, as if he'd been insulted directly by the bird's doubt. Wich is reasonable; he'd been pretty excited. "Didn't Troy say that there were female friends of his that knew about us? Why not them?"
Aratinga gave him a look that implied that the ambassador might as well have told him to catch Hanson himself. "Troy will never agree. He'll put me in a cage!" He shuddered at the thought. The Devil frowned.
"Tell him we forced you to ask." Aratinga gave a strangled squawk.
"He doesn't even know I meet you! I don't want to live in a cage!!"
"Aratinga." He said in a voice that was frighteningly quiet. "Tell him everything. And then tell him my request of a female, and that she won't be harmed anymore than giving blood."
The bird, hearing the dismissal in his voice, cast them one last pained look and turned away, muttering about them not knowing the horror of cages.
---
Troy stared out of the window nervously. It was dark again; Aratinga had been out all day. He worried about the bird getting home now, with a heavy thunderstorm lasting all day. Lightning thrashed across the sky every second, so that if one was spaced out enough, they might think it was still daylight. Thunder boomed like constant drums in the sky, hardly taking a break between blasts. The rain was taking away whatever vision capabilities that were still available in the dark, and the wind had knocked over garbage cans, blowing them around the rarely empty streets.
He sighed and turned around, leaning his back against the glass. There was music playing from the stereo around the TV, drowning out the thunder. His head still ached, and the music made it pound every time the drums let out a beat, but he couldn't find the will to turn it off. This storm was sent from the heavens.
God was pissed.
Which is no surprise, considering that three devils and a minion were out of Hell, running around New York, socializing with humans and probably stealing from them. And because for the sake of his pride, the High Devil refused to let God send his angels to catch them. That was enough to make any holy person angry. This storm was like God saying "Get away from my humans. Go Home!"
Troy groaned and knocked the back of his head against the window a few times, hating the way things had taken shape.
He heard the door click open and looked up. He saw her fingers first, long and dainty, pushing the door open as her head peaked around the side. Her brown eyes were large and watered, looking nervous. She let the door click behind her and looked up at him shyly.
"Gabriella." He breathed.
It was the first time he'd seen her since she collapsed; Sharpay had told him to let her sleep today before Chad took her to the airport. Sharpay was going to Florida to visit family for the week. She wished him luck and hugged him before going with Chad in Tow. Jason and Troy spent the day..just hanging out. Troy insisted that there was no point in searching, and Jason had the day off, so they hang around the apartment, watching basketball games and Megan Fox movies. But Jason had gone to bed early, because he had to work a morning shift at the gym.
Anyways, besides his "bonding" with Jason, Troy had spent the day thinking about Gabriella. For some reason, when she suddenly appeared before him, he had no idea what to say. He felt guily for letting her get hurt, but he was thankful for her helping him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he didn't at the same time.
She was just so frustrating!
She smiled a clearly forced smile at him, looking behind her as if she expected something to jump out at her.
"Hey." She said quietly, walking a few steps into the room. Another boom of thunder blasted, and she jumped about ten feet in the air. He frowned slightly. Gabriella looked tired, nervous, and skittish.
"What's wrong?" He asked steping closer to her.
"Umm.." She looked behind her again, wrapping her arms around herself. "Nothing, really."
Was he supposed to believe that? She was in her pajama's-- a purple cami and sweatpants, with her hair tied up in a messy pony tail; like she'd been to bed before coming here. Why wasn't she still sleeping?
"Gabriella." He deadpanned, tilting her chin up and staring her in the eyes. "That's bull."
She opened her mouth wordlessly, looking slightly relieved when their eyes connected. Blue, She thought, just blue. Good. She jumped again when the sky rumbled with such might the building shook. Their already close heads knocked painfully and Troy put a hand over his nose and grunted.
"Ow." He muttered. "Fuck."
Gabriella covered her mouth and her eyes widened. "Ah! Sorry!"
Troy blinked a few times and lowered his hands. She walked over to the window and shut the curtains in a meek attempt of being casual. He smirked and sighed in realization. "Afraid of thunder?"
She didn't look at him, instead began putting cups that were on the counter into the sink, keeping her hands busy. "I don't know what your talking about."
He rolled his eyes when she jumped again and walked over to her, laughing quietly. She eyed him suspiciously, her hands pausing over the sink. Troy quickly closed one arm around her waist and threw her over his shoulder. She was incredibly light and easy to lift, like a towel as he walked towards the couch. She grunted and gripped the back of his shirt in shock.
"Hey!" She squeaked. Jason slept with headphones on full blast over his ears, so Troy didn't bother to shush her. "Put me down!"
Troy picked up a pair of head phones with his free hand and plugged them into the stereo, making the room sound suddenly quiet. He dropped her onto the couch so that she was taking up two of the three cushions, and pushed the headphones onto her head. She blinked in surprise, staring up at him as a small blush fell over her cheeks.
He couldn't help but grin and sat on the third cushion, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head. She smiled slightly and closed her eyes, holding her hands over the headphones, pushing them closer to her ears. Troy wondered slightly if she liked the music; he hadn't bothered to change the songs. He guessed by the small smile on her lips that she did, and watched her for a while. Her lashes brushed her cheeks when she closed her eyes, he noticed as he watched her.
She leaned against the couch and curled up, hugging her knees.
Sometime while he was watching her, Troy must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, the storm was over and she was dozing quietly, her ball loosened and the headphones falling off of her head. Looking out of the window, he saw that it was still dark out, so he must have only dozed. When he looked at the clock, it was almost one.
Troy sighed and pushed himself up, quietly turning off the stereo and pulling the headphones off of Gabriella's head. He picked her up bridal-style and clicked the light off in the living area. Carrying her into his room, Troy was careful not to wake her, but the way her head leaned against his shoulder and her forehead on his neck sent warm chills down his back. He could feel her chest rise and fall against his, and he had to force himself to lay her in the bed before he couldn't convince himself to put her down.
After pulling the blankets over her, he turned to leave, trying to be quiet on the hardwood floors that seemed to want to make as much noise as possible. He was just thinking about how he hoped she could sleep okay, when he felt a small tug on the back of his shirt. Troy stopped and turned back to the bed, following the arm that had shot out of the blankets up to Gabriella's face. Her eyes were half closed, but she was clearly awake.
"Stay." She said so softly he had to strain to hear.
"...What?"
Her eyes closed a little bit more. "Please."
He hesitated, and she tugged on his shirt more. Could he handle himself? Would this be too much for his self-control?
"Stay." She said again. Troy gently removed her hand from his shirt and turned off the light before slipping into the bed beside her. It wasn't a small bed, so there was a good foot between them if he stayed on the side. He felt awkward. What did she want him to do? What did his staying matter?
He heard a rustle and felt the bed move, and before he could react, she was curled up close to him, burying her face into his chest. His breath hitched in his throat. Troy was sure that if the light was on, he would see her blushing, and his heart picked up speed. Could she tell?
Not knowing what else to do, Troy wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He felt her relax against him and exhale. She murmured something very quietly, but he heard her as if she had shouted it.
"Thank you."
--
AHHHH
It's been so long :'D
I'm UBER SORRY. (and that's a lot of sorry.)
Why did I take so long? I'll make it short.
Computer failure----No microsoft word---not wanting to use word pad----writer's block from not writing in a while----vacation----still no microsoft word--ended up writing it in word pad anyways.
So, if there's mistakes, it's because I can't find mistakes by re-reading my own work, wordpad has no spell check, and FF's spell check doesn't understand half of the english language.
I should get a beta....
I hope the fluff at the end made you smile :)
If your confused about Aratinga, the Ambassador, and the Devil's meeting---good. You should be ;)
I'll explain it next time.
And lastly, if your thinking that Max was caught too fast, that's good too. He was supposed to be fast. Because Max is the easy one.
He's really just there to make Hanson look worse.
Because Hanson is quite the bad ass.
Check out a banner I made at the bottom of my profile!!!
review?
