A/N: Short chapter, but with the promise of a quickly following next. The next chapter will probably be up by tomorrow. ^^

Meanwhile, thank you all for your words of encouragement!

PS: I actually looked into Catholic exorcism for this...

Chapter 14: How They Began

The morning found Gilbert waking slowly on the couch, mouth dry and fuzzy with sleep and chest burdened with an unfamiliar weight. Blinking against the strained light of the room, he found Elizabeta nestled against him, her cheek resting over his suddenly racing heart. For a moment, he wondered how she hadn't woken for the deafening throb of blood as it hammered in his ears. Then it fell silent, frozen in place. Today was Saturday – exorcism day – and the realization sent goose bumps shooting along his pale arms. He had never seen an exorcism before, and the word itself made his stomach twist uneasily; the image of Matthew writhing on the floor, crying and screaming for mercy jolted through his conscious mind and stuck there replaying itself like the proverbial broken record. Suddenly, Gilbert felt sick.

The next series of events was sparked when the phone rang from the kitchen, calling for its owner to haul his lazy, albino ass off the couch and answer it. He didn't move, and Elizabeta awoke with a wide yawn.

"Your phone's ringing."

"Yeah, I noticed." Closing his tired, burning eyes once more, he found himself wishing that the damn thing would just spontaneously combust.

"You gonna answer it, or are you gonna sit here looking brain dead all day?"

He pecked her lightly on the forehead with a lopsided grin. "Nah, I'll leave that to the pro."

She slugged him.

"Hey Gil, it's Tony…" The phone had stopped ringing, and the (unbelievably outdated) answering machine had begun taking the call, making Antonio's voice sound unnaturally scratchy. "Uh, Lovi and me were calling about that thing today?"

"Talk to me, Tony." Having dived across the room and overturned the coffee table to get to the receiver, he answered with the satisfied exhale of one who has just accomplished some great feat. "What've you got?"

The man on the other end hesitated, as though confused by the sudden presence of his friend. Then he said, "Lovi says today before lunch."

"Sounds good… eleven work for you?"

"Sure." With an audible smile, Antonio continued, "By the way, Fr. Roma says that Ludwig can stay at his place for today, so you should put your time alone with that fine lady friend to good use."

"Yeah, yeah… thanks Tony." The albino grumbled inwardly – how pathetic did a person have to be to get set up by a holy man? "Thanks a lot."

"So it's at eleven, huh?" His fine lady friend had gotten to her feet, pulling her hair over her shoulder to fall in gentle waves across her back.

Gilbert nodded. "We've got two hours to kill. You want breakfast?"

"I'm gonna take a shower first." She laughed, ruffling his hair fondly as she passed him on her way to the bathroom. "Not all of us like going around smelling like we've never heard of bathing."

"If I smell so bad, why don't you help me?" Looping an arm around Elizabeta's waist, the man pulled her against him so that he could bury his burning face in her neck. "Then we could share the hot water and no one would get a cold shower."

An elbow to the gut made him recoil sharply. Bright green eyes winked impishly at him and the brunette giggled.

"I don't think so. It sounds to me like a cold shower's exactly what you need."

And the door swung shut, leaving a panting, humiliated albino standing alone in his family room.

Against his will (and better judgment), Gilbert found himself thinking that Lovino looked surprisingly impressive as he stood before the Hédévary residence in his well-pressed black shirt and white collar. With a Bible tucked under his arm, he carried a crucifix and flask holy water in his free hand, toying with a small rosary ring that was looped around his thumb.

"About time you showed up, jackass," he addressed Gilbert, lip curling in a less-than godly fashion. "Here I went and studied for a week for you, and you're not even fucking on time!"

"Sorry we're late," Elizabeta cut in smoothly. "Traffic was crazy."

"Right." The would-be priest sighed and looked away. Apparently he'd heard about the two of them and their relationship status from his grandfather. "Anyways, we should probably get a move on."

Glancing around, the albino frowned slightly. "Where's Tony?"

"Sleeping, the lazy bastard." Turning to his ghost busting companions, he glowered for a moment at the empty space between them before letting loose a terse exhalation.

"What now?"

"When I go in there, I'm going to have to take the spirit inside of me." Lovino's angry hazel gaze flickered, giving way to nerves and a fear that was slowly draining the blood from his face. "But whatever the fuck you do, don't touch me. It's against the law to restrain someone who's possessed, so make sure to keep that in mind, you dumbass. Last thing I need is to get killed saving your girlfriend's fucking house."

Then, regaining that strange, uncharacteristic sense of majesty, the exorcist strode forward and opened the door of the house, crossing himself impressively as he did. Caught off guard by the sudden actions, the two other young people followed quickly after him.

The usual scent of paprika had faded, becoming replaced with the crackling scent of bitter, winter ice hinted with something sweet and very much like maple syrup. At the head of the small party, Lovino almost hesitated, his breath fogging in quick little spurts that revealed his uneasiness. When he had reached the center of the living room, he stopped, eyes closed, and began to pray.

Gilbert blinked slowly, sleepily, as though being dragged into a molasses-like mire of drowsiness. The room was so cold, but somehow that cold was hitting his flesh and being pulled into his core until his lungs ached with frost. It was the feeling one experienced when running a marathon amidst snow heaps and flurries, but not standing in the middle of a poorly air-conditioned house in June.

"Are you okay?" With an expression of confusion rather than concern (of course it wasn't exactly a surprise considering the speaker – when was the last time the crazy bitch had ever worried about him?), Elizabeta's voice struck his ears as though he were submerged in water, the sound rippling unnaturally.

Nodding, the albino waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Then all he knew was a black, vacuum-like silence.