OOC:

I'm back in the flow...I think I have enough inspiration to finish this. Again, not feeling real great about it, but I'm going to strike while the iron's hot...again. I'm really trying to build back up my Persona inspiration too, because I've decided Mender of Souls needs some help.

Toby's eyes snapped open. His messy bedroom came into view. His assorted hats, his work uniform on the floor. It was a small place, the mess mostly from garbage or scattered clothes. His clock glowed '4:30' and there wasn't any light filtering inside from his single window. Toby didn't dare move, though. He hurt all over. His head had a piercing pain—he reached gingerly and touched at where his horns had been, but then blinked and tried not to think about the horns. The horns weren't really real. But Vincent had done something to cause him excruciating pain.

Vision going fuzzy, then fading, then coming back slowly, Toby realized that just because he wasn't soaked in blood didn't mean he wasn't in just as bad condition.

But that meant Jonny was in trouble too.

Toby tried to sit up but his back sent an angry spasm in reply. There was no way they could win now. Well…there was no way he could help now. For some reason, he didn't want to believe it'd been an effort to kill him. Maybe Vincent…just wanted him out of the running? Toby hoped. God…He couldn't believe that their friend…Well, he could almost believe it, but…Vincent's wild anger reappeared in his brain and he shut his eyes, groaning.

But he had to get up. Jonny needed someone to get to him.

With some difficulty he managed to sit up.

"I'm not just some damn kid…Damn it, I won't be shoved aside," he mumbled, voice trembling, hands gripping the sheets to keep him up. Groaning, he pushed himself forward to his knees, but his brain completely scattered and he stared blankly. What was he doing? Damn it….He was just too messed up for this.

His phone, then. His phone. Had to get to his phone…

In his struggle, at some point he laid back down on his stomach, staring blankly across his apartment, breathing heavily and trembling. At some point, there was a series of knocks on his door.

"Toby! Toby! Open the door, damn it—"

Toby flinched at the sound. "….It's locked!" he grunted. "It's locked…"

"Well then open it!"

"I'm coming!"

Toby renewed his efforts and sort of slid down the side of his bed, but temporarily curled his spine in the effort and the pain was horrible. Toby made a strangle noise and he straightened out on the floor, ignoring how bad his work clothes smelled. Mostly, like beer. The smell burned.

"Toby! Open the damn door! Just say so if you can't—Took Jonny a goddamn hour…"

"It took me ten minutes; I've told you a thousand times not to exaggerate."

Toby struggled for a little longer before he just pulled a hat over his face, regardless of its beer-soaked condition, and admitted, "I can't do it, man. I can't get up. I'm all kinds of hurt…"

"Then I guess we'll pay for a new door."

There was a loud bang that scrambled Toby's senses and he moaned. It happened a few more times, when the door to his apartment gave and Jonny and Orlando stumbled in. Jonny rubbed at his shoulder, and Orlando struggled to regain his balance for a moment before they both looked at Toby. Toby peeked under the hat and blushed, embarrassed at his position.

"Our, um…efforts didn't work…" Toby mumbled, but Jonny and Orlando mostly focused on just getting him back up and onto the bed again. He whined and moaned about it, but lying back on the bed was such a good relief that he didn't even care.

"Well, I pissed him off," Jonny said quietly, sitting on the foot of the bed. "Mind if I smoke?"

"No, go on. Use something as an ashtray…"

Jonny lit up and looked briefly at Toby and then up to Orlando, who was kicking the dirty clothes into a pile by the closet. "Yeah, I got him mad, but I was hoping to get him jealous. Because we don't have the strength to get him ourselves."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not going to be much help, Toby. I'm still pretty angry you went and got yourself all beat up. So if you weren't already crippled, I would've done it for you. But I've got a plan."

"That worked so well last time," Orlando mumbled, rubbing at his ringed eyes with his good hand. "Maybe we should just shut up and take it. I mean, kinky sex is still sex. I think you just want to show off that you're with Katherine and he's not. Dude's got his own girl—he's also got his own harem. I kind of think it'd be hard to get him to suddenly realize that he screwed up."

"Well, Katherine has to become involved if we want to win," Jonny said, shrugging. "I'm going into the Stray Sheep later to talk Boss into bringing her in with us. Because he will choke at seeing her. He will. There's no doubt."

"Yeah, that'll work. Traumatize your girlfriend."

"It'll just be a bad dream to her. Who knows, maybe they'll get some closure. I don't want to bring her in any more than you do."

"Yeah, bull. You're practically smiling at the idea. But wouldn't the other Catherine flip out if your Katherine and Vincent…?"

Jonny watched Orlando for a moment, and his eyes widened. Toby looked between them.

"What? What? Tell me! Fill me in!"

"Pipe down, the big kids are talking," Orlando replied, smiling.

"Orlando! Here I am, all beat up and probably concussed and you're still making fun of me! Jeez—I mean, don't I get any credit for tackling Vincent?"

"Yeah, fine, maybe you get some courage points. But minus whatever those are for being useless to us now. But now I get what Jonny's after…You want to bring in Vincent's Catherine. You want her to see your Katherine and demon-butt together. For whatever reason. It'll be another demon that brings him down a peg, not us."

"I tried yesterday. I wanted him to get jealous. She'd probably pop in at some inconvenient time and whip him into submission. But our daredevil here wanted to help." Jonny offered a tired smile and patted Toby's feet. "It's okay. I thought you were brave. Get some rest, though. Hopefully if you sleep all day you won't pop in with us tonight."

"What?"

"Toby, you couldn't even get up to open the door. What will you do tonight? Bite at his ankles?"

"Well, I could."

They shared some nervous, stressed laughter, before Jonny reached for the phone, and the three of them collectively called in. Jonny's father sounded pissed, and Orlando's boss wasn't so cool with the idea either, but at the moment, stabilizing their lives was a bit more important than having to make up for their absences later.

Toby took some painkillers, which had at least a placebo effect if not a genuine one. He felt drowsy, and just as his eyelids grew heavy, Jonny patted his feet and the two others left.

Before they were gone, Toby mumbled, "I'm sorry…I just wanted to prove I'm not a kid…"

Jonny came back and gingerly patted his feet again. "It's okay. Don't sweat it. Just do me a favor and keep out of the way now, got it?"

Toby smiled sleepily and then shut his eyes, hearing Orlando and Jonny fuss with the broken door a bit before leaving. He'd sleep now and stay awake through the night; surely then he wouldn't be involved. He'd messed up and now he was out of the game…but he trusted Jonny and Orlando. They knew what they were doing. By now. Hopefully. Maybe? Oh man…