A long awaited chapter! Sorry for all of the delays, but I appreciated all the reviews and patience!


The first time Pietro sees Daimon with someone else he's initially confused. The drugged haze slows things down so it takes a second before he remembers his earlier conversation with Daimon. Grateful that he hadn't opened the door more than a crack he knows the couple hasn't noticed him. When the sight before him sinks in he freezes in place.

He's watching Daimon's back as he leans against a dresser with his head thrown slightly back. There's a skinny girl kneeling before him with big hazel eyes staring up the muscular stomach inches from her face. Pietro watches Daimon run one hand through her hair to hold the back of her head as he guides her into a faster pace. When he realizes he's been standing in the doorway watching much longer than necessary he beats a hasty retreat to his own bed. Hours later he wakes up to Daimon climbing under the covers with him. He wants to say something, but he remembers he'd made it clear that he didn't want to make Daimon's sex life part of his business. Instead of speaking he sighs heavily and lets Daimon settle against his back. When his arm reaches around to pull Pietro closer to his chest he interlaces their fingers and goes to sleep.

Tonight he makes it a step into the room before he realized what he's seeing. This time a boy is bent over the bed while Daimon roughly moves behind him. It takes them a moment to notice Pietro and when they do the boy blushes furiously. Pietro eyes, however, have locked with Daimon's. He can see the muscles of his stomach contracting and hear the heavy breathing as the man reigns himself in. The boy suddenly interrupts their staring match when he starts telling Daimon he's squeezing him too tight. Pietro is gone before Daimon can say anything.

He walks numbly down the stairs to the living room and sinks onto the couch. The sound of a headboard hitting a wall forces him to frown at the ceiling. "Hellstrom's been bringing a lot of company around lately." Pietro jumps only just noticing Frank Castle sitting at the other end of the couch with his head tilted back and his eyes closed.

"I hadn't noticed." He snaps back before turning the TV on and hitting the volume button angrily. Castle doesn't say anything when he sits up a little straighter and opens his eyes to glance at him.

"He's not subtle."

"And?" Castle shrugs noncommittally.

"Just seems like he might want someone's attention."

"I highly doubt that." Pietro says dismissively.

"When's the last time you tried?" Pietro glares over at him without having to ask what he means. He hasn't tried to have sex in some time. Definitely hasn't been curious about trying in a very long while.

"That's really not your business, Castle." Before Frank can do more than frown at him they're interrupted by a typically ill-timed Loki entrance.

"Pietro! Are you joining us for movie night? Venom is bringing pizza," Loki announced loudly entering the room with the largest bowl of popcorn he'd ever seen. Glancing at the small god he notes the hopeful look on his face. He internally sighs before nodding at the now beaming Loki. "Excellent! I've acquired the extended editions of The Lord of the Rings. Flash has assured me of the film's quality, and pop culture significance."

There was the sound of footsteps coming up from the basement before Flash could be heard yelling, "pizza's here!" Pietro rolled his eyes and settled more comfortably into the couch. Flash enters the room and sets down a large stack of pizza. He glances around the group looking apologetic. "Sorry they're smashed a bit, but the man hole cover was too small for the boxes. I had to bend them around a little."

Castle says nothing as he grabs a slice and scrapes some of the extra toppings off the lid of the box to add to his piece. "Honestly it doesn't look any less messy than a lot of pizzas I've had."

"I still wish it was from New York, but how hard can it be to make a good pizza. Any way where's Hellstrom?" It was at this moment the banging started with renewed force. Flash frowned at the ceiling before looking slightly confused to Pietro. "But aren't you two…" he trails off awkwardly before meeting the angry stare of the Punisher. "Sorry, I just thought he was with-"

"Probably stop talking now, kid."

"Right! Sorry," he said coughing uncomfortably then proceeding to start shoveling food into his mouth.

Pietro didn't say anything as he sulked further into the couch. They weren't together. Daimon deserved someone who wasn't so completely damaged. Pietro wasn't even sure he could have that kind of relationship anymore. "Just start the movie, Loki."

The small god was watching the proceedings with wicked amusement in his emerald eyes. At the mention of the movie however he jumped eagerly to his feet and inserted the first of many Blu-rays.

They were only twenty minutes into the first movie when Daimon joined them. He said nothing as he settled comfortably on the couch next to Pietro with a greasy slice of pizza. Pietro deliberately adopted his best indifferent expression.

Daimon sank into the couch next to a stony Pietro, smirking at Flash when he cast a disapproving eye on him. He could practically feel Pietro's confused thoughts beside him. The first half of the film he simply basks in the afterglow while taking comfort in his proximity to the mutant that is steadily taking up more of his thoughts. He is so distracted with thoughts of sex with Pietro he doesn't hear Castle calling his name.

"What are you going on about now, Castle?"

"Kitchen. Now." He raises an imperious brow at the simple sentences before pushing himself up with a sigh. Glancing at Pietro he notes the glazed look as he frowns at the screen.

"What is this about now, Castle?" he drawls leaning against a counter watching Frank pulling a few beers and a soda from the fridge.

"You know he's going to kill himself if something doesn't change right?" Hellstrom usually respects Frank for his habit of cutting straight to the matter at hand. Tonight it might annoy him.

"I think you're being a bit dramatic. Besides why is this my problem?"

"Do you care about him?" Daimon thinks on it for a moment before shrugging noncommittally. Castles nods slowly looking him directly in the eye before saying gruffly, "you're going to come back to him dead one night. Can you live with that?"

Daimon stared hard back into Castle's sharp eyes before looking away with a huff. "What do you expect from me, Castle?"

"Talk to him. Give him a reason to fight this. This game you're playing? It's not going to help him." Daimon scowled for a moment. He was enjoying the game he was playing, but Castle might have a point.

"Fine," he growled through gritted teeth. "I'll think about it, but this is going to blow up in someone's face and it won't be mine." Frank gave him a knowing smirk before shoving two beers into his hands and waving him back to the living room.

Hours later Daimon lay silently on his back gazing at the moonlit ceiling lost in thought. The body next to him gave a small tremor before stilling once more. His demon had soaked in the pain radiating off the mutant during what he knew was an onslaught of nightmares. The human part of him was less satisfied. If he was honest he knew he didn't feel comfortable imaging a world without Pietro in it. He just wasn't sure what he was willing to do to help. He wasn't sure he was capable of helping. He'd tried to help Patsy when she'd gone mad at a small glimpse of his Dark Soul. The only person he'd ever loved had opened that soft flesh on her wrists rather than share a world with him. Was Daimon really what someone as vulnerable as Pietro needed?

In the midnight gloom, Daimon fought with himself. Rolling to his side he watched Pietro's sleeping face. He let himself see the signs. Pietro's pale skin had become waxy and stretched too thin. He had angry track marks running up his arms and between his delicate toes. Daimon spent more time with him high than not lately. More than once he'd woken to him barely breathing. He'd been fooling himself into not seeing it was getting worse. Reaching out he gently traced the largest scab on the inside of Pietro's thin elbow. Seeing his hand next to Pietro's tender arm he noticed how thin he'd become. He could easily wrap a hand around one of his forearms. Seeing the destruction he was opening up on himself Daimon felt a bitter wave of sadness come over him. All he wanted was to protect this fragile person from any more pain. It was clear the heroin had to stop soon if Pietro was going to live. Daimon knew what he had to do.

Pietro didn't understand what had happened. As quickly as it had started it had stopped. Daimon went from entertaining a different guest each night to a life of apparent abstinence. When he asked him about it he'd shrugged and said casual sex gets old after a while. Pietro was having a hard time buying it, but what had really surprised him was the wave of relief he'd had at the news. It'd felt like he was sharing Daimon with these strangers.

He was relieved how easily they slipped back into their old habits. Sleeping beside Daimon had become something he caught himself looking forward to each night. However, that didn't stop the growing sense of shame every time he leapt from bed to be violently sick. Daimon never said anything, but Pietro could feel his concern. He was grateful it never felt like pity. He just didn't like feeling like he'd done something to hurt Daimon. Whenever he thought of quitting he'd inevitably come up with a dozen reasons he needed to use. He needed it.

That's how he found himself at 7 o'clock at night shaking on the bathroom floor as he fumbled with a lighter and a piece of tinfoil. He's so sick he doesn't notice Daimon come in behind him. Doesn't notice until he feels a warm hand on the back of his neck. He almost sobs in relief at the feel of Daimon slowly crouching beside him. He doesn't understand at first when Daimon's hand carefully grasps his hand currently holding the lighter. When Daimon gently pushes his hand away from the foil he whines low in his throat. "Daimon, please."

"Pietro, I know this is shit timing, but we need to talk about this." He barely registers Daimon's carefully placed words before he starts shaking his head.

"Daimon, I need a fix then we can talk okay? Just let me have this one, please? Nothing is going to happen." He hates the way he can feel his voice trembling, but he can't help it. He shakes his hand free and holds the lighter beneath the foil slowly cooking. He doesn't notice Daimon frowning as he carefully fills a syringe before finding a vein. He sighs as the needle finally pierces his skin of his calf.

When the shaking eases he smiles lazily up a Daimon, but frowns when he notices his angry glare. "You're going to get yourself killed. I don't want to see that, Pietro." Pietro tries to decipher these words, but he's too far gone.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't want to see you throw your life away on this poison."

"What you're going to judge me? I thought demons loved all kinds of sin. Well you know what, fuck you, Daimon. I don't need this." He pulls himself to his feet and pushes past Daimon and he runs. Forcing himself not to look back, he runs. Rather than go to his room he returns to his apartment in New York for the night knowing he'll have to face his sister when he gets there.

Wanda had taken to staying in his apartment in the last few months and while this usually wouldn't bother him tonight he wants to be alone. When he'd seen Daimon standing there trying to control him like everyone else he'd suddenly become angry in a way that he knew he shouldn't.

"Brother," she smiles brilliantly when she opens the door. "Come on I was just about to order some take-out." He doesn't speak when he enters, just marches to the couch where he collapses. Wanda takes the hint and leaves him alone while she calls the Thai place they both used to share at least once a week when they'd first come to New York.

Turning on the TV for something to do he somehow lands on the Omen. Staring at the screen for a moment he starts laughing before breaking down into angry tears while he cursed in a dozen languages. He calms down enough to notice Wanda watching him with a confused expression. They stared at each other for a moment before Pietro breaks and murmurs something about taking a shower.

Once he securely locks the bathroom door he lets himself rest against the bathroom door. It takes a minute for his breathing to once again even out, but once it does he moves forward to the sink. Splashing some water on his face he quickly sheds his clothes before he finds himself staring into his face in the mirror. He barely recognizes himself these days. He can see his collarbone protruding painfully along with each bone in his sternum. There's heavy shadows ringing his eyes that stand out even sharper against the pale color of his skin. He looks like a corpse for lack of a better word. He keeps his mind carefully blank as he takes in the damage. He feels nothing as he counts the track marks. Daimon might have a reason to be worried, but he can't stop yet. Can he? With a sigh he turns away from his reflection and steps into the comforting heat of the shower scrubbing at his body until a few of the scabs peel off.

After a swift reentry he silently moves back to the couch. Wanda slides a bit closer so she's leaning into his side. Glancing down Wanda points at his elbow, "you're bleeding." Pietro grunts and neither Maximoff speaks after that as they half watch television both too lost in their own thoughts to take much notice of what they're actually seeing. At the sound of the doorbell Pietro rises to pay while Wanda goes to gather plates.

They eat in tense silence. Pietro knows his sister is itching to say something, but is worried how he'll react. It doesn't take a genius to guess what she wants to say. After Daimon earlier he'd not sure he can do this again in the same night. "Brother," she begins hesitantly after she's made them both teas. "You know how I worry for you. You know I love you right? I only want what's best for you. This drug," here she pauses heavily. "Well it's killing you. I'm sure you can see that and maybe you don't care, but goddamnit I care about you!" He isn't prepared for her rising volume or her slapping her palm on the table.

"Wanda, you're getting hysterical."

"Don't make this out like I'm being crazy, Pietro. You're hurting yourself, so I have every reason to be upset. I have every right to be mad at you for giving up like this."

"I didn't give up. I'm just-"

"Of course you have! You can't deal with things as they are so you're checking out of reality. It's not right Pietro and it's going to kill you. You are so strong, brother, and I know you can get through this if you'd stop running and just face it."

"I'm not running from anything, Wanda."

"Of course you are. You've been running since we were kids and you have been trying to out run all this unfair shit that's happened to you, but it doesn't work like that Pietro. This is going to follow you. The only cure is to face it. I'm sure you don't want to die, brother. The only real alternative is to live." She's calmed herself down by the time she finishes talking, but he can tell how relieved she is to be talking like this.

"You've been wanting to say this for a while haven't you?" She smiles at him sadly.

"You don't always make it easy to talk, Pietro. You don't see it, but this path you're on hurts other people. I came into this world with you, but you seem determined to leave without me." Her eyes look wet, but her voice remains steady as she stares Pietro down.

"I'm not determined to die. Don't be melodramatic."

"Then what are you doing?" She asks with an exasperated sigh.

"I'm just… I don't know. I'm just tired of running I think. This is easier."

"I've never known you to take the easy path."

"I don't know if I can quit anymore, Wanda. I don't think I want to." He knows how tired he sounds even as he says it.

"I would be surprised if you wanted to. Are you happy though? Can you honestly tell me you're happy?"

"Wanda, I don't like feeling this way. I don't like feeling out of control. It's not a happy feeling. I just don't know what else to do."

"Then quit. You can. I know you can. You did it once and this time you'll have me with you the whole time."

"Wanda, I don't know," he can't look at her as he saying this. He can feel his resolve falling apart.

"Think about it. Seriously think about it Pietro. You're life can be so much more than this. I'll always love you, but I don't know if I'd be able to manage if you died like this." Pietro didn't say anything. He just nodded his head and stares at his mug of tea. The tea is a deep red which reminds him of Daimon and his demonic iris. He imagines being clean. Not spending every night beside Daimon shaking or throwing up. He imagines feeling healthy again. He allows himself to imagine other activities he might want to try once he's healed. Without saying anything he meets his sister's eyes and nods.