Briar Rose Syndrome

by TheBeingOfEverything

Someone wants to teach Samael some humility. That the form their lesson takes may just kill him is something Rin has an issue with. Roping in a reluctant Amaimon to help him track down the culprit and a cure, Rin begins his quest to wake Mephisto before his sleep becomes permanent.*A Sleeping Beauty AU*

6. Hot Springs For What Ails Ya'

Summary: Mephisto learns a little more about the names he's remembered, not all pleasant. Rin and Amaimon find a hot spring and soak some of their aches away then find out there's some pain that you can't fix with a hot bath.

Notes: usually a hot springs chapter is supposed to be the fun unwinding chapter for characters. Usually.

(I am a cruel god, my characters, they suffer).

Also did u guys SEE that new manga chapter drop? Mephisto for Number 1 Demon Dad amirite XD Somebody get him a mug with that on it, he deserves it while Shiro and Satan are being childish again.

One step closer to being able to update Incandescence, since I know that's what everybody is really wondering lololol I just need to know what Amaimon's deal is after he flipped out on Mephisto and darted off, presumably to go get Shiemi. Like, that's it, Kato, that's all I need T.T

Also, am I cursed to never write a short chapter again? This was supposed to be like 30-40 pages, not another 20k (:

Song(s) of the Chapter:

I Know You by Lana Del Rey

We Must be Killers by Mikky Ekko

---

Drifting currents.

Muffled sounds from far away.

A voice, as if through water.

"-."

"Hey, -."

Familiar, the voice was achingly familiar.

"Amaimon and - got into another spat again, looks like he's hiding out in Assiah for a bit."

Hm. Amaimon always got into spats with them, that was nothing new.

"Not interesting enough, huh?"

Quiet filled his ears beneath the ever-present thrum of a pulse.

"Everything bores you." Wry laughter accompanied the words. They were wrong, anyway. Not everything bored him.

Not the humans.

Not you.

It took him under again.

---

He opened his eyes. He was healed now. They had to move on.

Soft breaths came from his side. Rin. And Samael.

Had Rin fallen asleep?

"Ow." A low groan from Rin made his ears twitch. That had sounded strained. He hadn't slept though. Amaimon had been right to trust him to keep watch.

Samael's cloak had twisted around him in the three hours he'd slept for. A bloodstained patch under his nose brought the scent of the various demons who'd died in their escape, bothering him to smell.

Rin would likely want to eat. He had to get up.

Amaimon clutched his fingers into the fabric he'd gripped while unconscious, bringing an unstained portion to his nose and inhaling. His eyes fluttered open, staring at the weave of it as memories of the past day rose with his awareness.

From the beginning, he'd known the path they would be forced to take. Iblis had just confirmed it for him with the information she'd given.

Lucifer. All roads led to Lucifer.

Would his gambit pay off? The danger increased with every moment they stayed in Gehenna.

And…

Samael's time drained exponentially each day, too.

The curse sapped at his reserves faster than Amaimon had thought possible.

Already he-

"Ngh." Another muffled sound of pain from Rin. What was wrong with him?

It made him pull the cloak away and sit up. He turned his gaze to Rin and froze.

Blue eyes blinked up at him, Rin's face twisted in a wince as he prodded at his shoulder.

His shoulder, which was, upon closer inspection, dislocated, something Amaimon only saw because Rin had, for a reason he couldn't place, torn the sleeve of his shirt to reveal it to the mountain air when he could have just removed the shirt entirely.

"Oh, you're awake, are you okay now?" Rin said, palm pressing to his arm as Amaimon sensed the flames welling there at the place he touched.

"What are you doing?" Amaimon said instead, sitting up the rest of the way and furrowing his brows.

"Er," Rin glanced down, sheepish and rubbing his hand to his hair, "I kinda need your help with this."

A gesture indicated the shoulder, though Amaimon still didn't know what he was asking for.

"What?"

Rin hunched in a one-sided shrug, "I kinda don't know how to pop a shoulder back in place and you yanked it out when we were running. Can you show me how to pop it back in? It keeps trying to heal where it is."

Unbelievable. Amaimon laughed, the sound bursting out of him at the shock of Rin's request.

He'd fought through swarms of the beasts of Gehenna, squared off with Iblis, fourth in Gehenna's power structure, forced Amaimon to sleep, and yet couldn't pop his own shoulder back into place.

The scowl on Rin's face made even more amusement bubble up in his chest. Rin hissed as he moved to grip the arm where it hung limp at his side.

Another movement and he'd shoved it back into place.

"Thanks," Rin muttered, pressing to the joint and looking away again.

"Pay attention, you need to learn this," Amaimon said as he took hold of his own arm.

A questioning sound came from Rin, head turning back to him, then his eyes widened as Amaimon yanked his arm out of his socket with a grunt at the pain.

"Holy shit!" Rin yelped, reaching towards him until he remembered Samael was still in his lap and carefully lay him to the ground to move next to Amaimon.

Amaimon tugged the remains of his jacket off to better show Rin his arm, "Take hold of it and straighten it out to here, then push it back into place, please."

"Yeah, sure thing," Rin said, managing to overcome his human squeamishness to comply. The heat from his palms where he held Amaimon over the frayed green arm-warmers and his shirt distracted him for a moment, mind going to the flames he knew burrowed under Rin's skin.

It really was...annoying that he couldn't use them while in Gehenna.

His drifting thoughts were interrupted again when Rin shoved and his shoulder popped in, healing within seconds.

"Good." He nodded and rotated his shoulder before standing and taking stock of where he'd teleported them to.

The last few moments before he'd fallen asleep had been hazy with pain and holding his vessel together. Now that he was awake, he could better assess the situation.

A quick glance told him they'd ended up midway to the border of Lucifer's domain, which was ideal to give them space between the horde no doubt still on their heels but also far enough to avoid whatever might come from Lucifer.

"Um, Amaimon?" The questioning tone from Rin had him focusing back seeing him picking at the ruined clothes he wore with a grimace.

At his attention, Rin spoke, "Are you healed enough to clean this? I think I'm starting to stink."

He snapped and repaired their clothes, removing the dried blood in the same instance so that they no longer smelled like foreign demons.

Rin breathed a sigh of relief, patting himself down.

Then he winced again when his hands touched to his chest and Amaimon cocked his head.

"Are you still hurt?" He asked, wondering if Rin would admit to the weakness or cover it up.

Sure enough, Rin pulled his hand away like it burned, turning to bend over Samael and hefting him in his arms.

"No, I'm fine, just tired," Rin said, eyes dark where they shown over Samael's shoulder. He'd lifted him in that same hold that meant both his arms were occupied and left Samael with his head tucked into the crook of Rin's neck. Another mystery he didn't understand.

Tired. That was true, Rin would need to sleep to recover. And eat. Otherwise he would likely collapse soon. Amaimon was surprised he hadn't already with how heavy the bruises under his eyes were.

Scanning Rin's form, Amaimon saw the trembling in his limbs and the pallor to his skin, frowning as he realized Rin was standing through sheer will and little else.

"You need to sleep, Rin," Amaimon finally said when it looked like Rin wouldn't admit anything.

"I can keep going," Rin insisted with a shake of his head that made him sway and Amaimon glare at the stubbornness.

Instead of listening, Rin took a few steps forward. Then he hissed, stumbling with Samael in his arms and locking his limbs in place over his bent form.

"You are injured," Amaimon said in his own hiss, coming towards Rin as he watched him rub a hand to his chest. "Don't be stupid. You're useless if you can't even walk."

His words made Rin freeze, hand twitching over where he'd been twisting his jacket in a clenched grip. What could he be hiding that wouldn't have healed by now?

He snapped and Samael disappeared from Rin's arms to his, earning a confused yelp from Rin as he jerked back up again and glared.

"I just-" Rin cut himself off, gaze flicking as if he couldn't meet Amaimon's and deepening his scowl, "-I need a bath, something that isn't just getting snapped clean, and unless you've got a tub in wherever you're keeping the food there's nothing you can do about it, okay?"

A bath? The request drew Amaimon up short, confusion pricking at his mind as he tried to understand why a bath would be any better than the way they'd been keeping clean now.

Although, if it was a bath he wanted. "Okay, fine."

With a thought and another snap of his fingers, he brought them to a new location.

The yelp of surprise from Rin at their teleportation was soon replaced by a gasp of awe and he watched him gape at their surroundings.

"No way, is this- are these-"

Bubbling water and steam hissed from a deep blue pool several feet from Amaimon, filling the small ravine of the mountain so that everything was obscured and heat chased the cold from his bones.

"There's hot springs in the area, is this good enough?" It had better be good enough. Amaimon narrowed his eyes at Rin. If it turned out he was like Samael, complaining that a hot spring was dirty or that it needed more of those human products to be considered a decent bath, he would drop Rin in the mud somewhere and let him clean himself the rest of the time.

"It's perfect!" Rin beamed at him, naked delight in his eyes and wide smile that stopped the irritation in Amaimon as he settled to see what Rin would do next.

Already, Rin stripped the clothes from his body. Then Amaimon saw why he had been reacting so odd earlier and what he'd been trying to hide.

Black fur looked tangled and matted, unfixable by a brush, even with all the things humans had come up with that Samael liked to keep around despite not needing any of them. But, more than the tangled fur was the shaking in the appendage Amaimon could see without his clothes in the way.

Amaimon watched as Rin sighed when stepping into the water, face losing some of the tightness from the pain that his tail must have caused him after being wound up for so long.

And then he unwound his tail from his waist, the ink-black color sliding over the blue like a dark stream and Amaimon couldn't take his eyes from it if he tried.

"Ow, shit, that hurts," Rin hissed again, staring back at his tail in the water with what looked like tears in his eyes and reaching for it without thought.

He almost warned him about what would come.

His arms tightened around Samael, indecisive.

Rin's hand closed over where Amaimon could see a kink in the tail, then he fisted it in a firm hold.

"Ahhn~" a thin moan left Rin's mouth, eyes shuttering and spine arching as his fingers spasmed over his now thrashing tail that sent up splashes in the water.

Droplets hit Amaimon's cheeks, jolting him from his stupor while Rin flinched and sank down to his knees, tail still clutched in his hand.

Sensitive. His tail would be incredibly sensitive after days of being hidden beneath the layers of his restrictive clothing.

"Holy fu-" Rin said, eyes sightless as he gazed skyward with a pink flush to his cheeks and droplets that could have been sweat or could have been water from the steam trickling over his body.

Either way, Amaimon wanted to follow them with his tongue, maybe his claws, to see if he could add red to those trails.

Was Rin still adamant about not playing with him? Maybe after this he wouldn't object.

A shake of Rin's head and a splash as he ducked down beneath the water had Amaimon drawing up from where he'd been about to set Samael down at the edge.

Bubbles that looked like they came from Rin's mouth and what sounded like a muffled scream paused his movements further. What was he doing now? Surely it didn't hurt that much, at least, not compared to the injuries he'd taken earlier.

Before he could near Rin to see what his problem was, he shot out of the water, tripping over to the far edge from Amaimon and slumping so that it covered him to his nose.

Then only the sound of the hot springs filled the area, Rin's ears bright red and Amaimon utterly baffled.

"What-" Amaimon began.

Rin cut him off, hand erupting from the water in a halting motion. "Don't ask, just get in the water, please."

Get in the water? The command bewildered Amaimon further. Did Rin want to play or not? But, if they were going to be in this place for awhile, as he didn't doubt they would be, given Rin still looked one blink from falling asleep where he sat, then he might as well get comfortable.

He rolled his neck and began tugging off his clothes, hiding a smirk when Rin couldn't seem to look at him but instead seemed to find a patch of grass across the rim fascinating.

The purr that wanted to rise at the inadvertent attention rose anyway when he stepped into the hot pool, bubbles caressing his skin in heated waves as he let his tail unwind and slip under to coil in slow patterns. It had begun to ache too, though he'd had much longer experience with that pain than Rin had and knew how to mitigate it a bit.

That didn't mean the hot water didn't send a shiver through him when it seeped into the sore muscles of his host vessel.

And he noticed Rin darting stolen glimpses towards the place his tail had settled, the smug feeling making his purr audible.

Maybe he could get Rin to make the first move if he taunted him enough. Though if he didn't up the ante Rin would fall asleep where he sat. Amaimon studied him, seeing he'd turned to rest his head on his crossed arms to hide the flush still on his cheeks.

Just as Amaimon was about to begin, Rin startled him by speaking.

"Hey, we should get Mephisto in here, too."

Once again, Rin left him blindsided.

Amaimon snapped his gaze to Samael's unconscious form, trying to understand what benefit, what purpose, there could be to bringing him into the water.

Repeating himself to Rin would get him more confusion, he knew, but the words slipped out anyway.

"Why?"

Rin shrugged, the motion making the water gathering from his hair drip down his neck to sluice over the muscles of his exposed shoulders and back.

"Why not?" he said, proving, as always, that Amaimon would have better luck asking Samael, cursed asleep as he was, for Rin's reasoning.

Why not. Fine. He snapped his fingers and Samael appeared on the side between he and Rin, clothes vanished, head lolling to his chest.

If Rin were hoping for a miracle induced awakening from the supposed curative properties of the hot springs, Amaimon could tell him to expect disappointment.

It wouldn't help Samael now, no human remedy could. He crushed the bitterness curdling in his gut, knowing it was as useless as Samael being in the waters with them.

Arching a brow after directing the earth to hold Samael in place, Amaimon glanced over to Rin as he wondered if he could get back to his teasing.

He stilled, echoing the way Rin held himself, wary while his claws flexed at his sides.

Wide blue eyes seared their way over Samael's body and mute horror filled Rin's expression as his nostrils flared, taking in the scent now coming from Samael once his clothes had been removed.

Oh. Amaimon's features deadened. Rin hadn't been able to sense what his eyes now revealed. He hadn't known the extent of the degradation. How far the rot had spread.

"How-" Rin croaked the start of his question, a slight tremor going through him and his jaw working silently before he could speak again, "How did it spread so fast?"

How? It was Amaimon's turn to sink further into the water, toes digging into the sand where the water coming from the vents in the earth burned in super-heated temperatures, letting the pain distract him as he answered.

"His healing is no longer functioning," it hadn't been for the past day, "The curse went through his reserves already."

"Oh," Rin whispered the word, hands coming up to grip his elbows and tail winding around his hips as if in comfort. He looked smaller, not helped by the way his lack of sleep must have been affecting his reactions. "How much longer do you think he can last? It's only been a few days."

Degradation scrawled ugly patterns over Samael's chest, over his limbs, his stomach, where most of the pressure of the journey had centered. His tail, usually so vibrant and well-kept, lay limp to the side, tossed around by the current in a poor mimicry of life.

Only his face stayed untarnished, somehow. It was almost cruel. If, as Rin had done, one didn't have the senses or familiarity to understand what was happening, then, with clothes, Samael would appear as if he were sleeping.

"I don't know," Amaimon admitted, voice empty. He shifted in the sand before completing the sentence, "Samael never told me how long it took."

Silence drifted like the steam. Amaimon caught himself watching the way Rin bent to rest his chin on his knees, wet bangs hiding his eyes from view.

"It sounds like he told you about as much as me, huh," Rin murmured, solemn. His fingers etching slow circles to the skin of his knees, absently wiping through the water.

A hiss tried to slide from Amaimon's mouth. As if a being so young and ignorant as Rin was could say what Samael had spoken to Amaimon after more years alive together than he could comprehend.

Human civilizations had risen and fallen in the millennia they had walked the earth. Words in languages that had been forgotten by the worms who had formed them passed through their conversations and would as long as they continued to exist.

But…

"Yes." Rin was right. "No one knows Samael's mind."

What good was a conversation in any language if it held no real substance, after all.

Rin laughed. Amaimon jerked his gaze up at the sound.

"Well," those bright blue eyes met his when Rin lifted his head, sleep deprivation making them wild, too bright. It didn't change that Amaimon couldn't move once pinned by them.

"That'll be a good lesson for him when we save him, then, won't it," a snicker left Rin, grin quirked at Samael. Then, "Next time he wants to hold back important stuff we'll remind him he literally almost died the last time he did it."

Remind Samael- Amaimon bit at his cheek, fangs slicing through the skin. How-?

His lips twitched, chest squeezing. The pain centered him and a wide grin of his own stretched across his face to bare his bloodstained fangs in a sharp laugh.

It hadn't been a fluke, the last time. Rin had no doubts they would break Samael of his curse. Even seeing him in this rapid decay, knowing they headed for Lucifer while Father's armies pursued them, Rin hadn't changed his mind.

In the end, only the outcome would decide if Rin was made a fool or not.

"I think," Rin trailed off, yawning wide enough to crack his jaw and exposing his fangs, "I think I'm good to sleep now, if it's safe here."

Nowhere was really safe, Amaimon wanted to say. But, Rin had already lay his cheek to the sandy bank, face haggard and body curled up beneath the water.

"Don't- don't let me drown, okay Amaimon?" The sleep slurred words stopped him from making more than a short sound of agreement.

It wasn't any stranger a place to fall asleep in than another. He certainly wouldn't be leaving the heat sooner than he had to. A flick of his hands and the earth reformed around Rin in a way that would prevent him from rolling from his position.

Another thought stole his focus off the black length of Rin's tail where it swayed in idle motions beneath the surface.

If they saved Samael, what would that mean for Samael's plans for Rin?

And, did he even know the true nature of those plans, or had Samael misled them all about those, too.

Amaimon watched the bubbles in the springs and didn't know what to think.

---

Warmth tickled over his body in comforting waves.

A current tugged the fur of his tail, lapping at skin and muscle that had become tense and aching from repeated strain without rest.

He nuzzled further to the wet grit his cheek lay on, tongue darting out to taste the water on his lips with a soft hum.

When was the last time he'd woken up so slowly, so comfortable?

Drifting water caressed his skin, the edge of consciousness creeping up on him but not breaking the final barrier to waking.

But something else began to press at his thoughts, an ache in his gut, and one further down.

Shuffling didn't ease either and Rin's brows scrunched, frown tugging his mouth. His hand that had been clawed into the sand beneath the water unlatched and went to scratch at his stomach.

Gurgling let his dozing mind know he was hungry. His hand moved further to deal with the other ache.

Pleasure coiled and replaced the hunger pangs as a light sigh escaped Rin's parted lips. The haze slipped further. Why was he in hot water, anyway?

His hips twitched, tail moving to coil around his leg and twisting in slow patterns over the trapped limb. Sparks from wet fur being pulled against the grain sent pinpricks of awareness to light up his mind.

Rin knew why he was in hot water, he was in a hot spring. He was in a hot spring because his body had been aching and tired. He was tired because…

Rin's eyes shot open.

He was tired because he was in Gehenna, on the run from Satan's armies, and traveling to save Mephisto from a cursed coma.

With Amaimon.

Gold gleamed from slit-pupiled irises in a head cocked to the side, staring with unabashed curiosity.

"Are you awake now? Why did you stop?"

Stop- Rin squeaked, jerking his gaze down to where he'd been palming himself in his sleep and tearing his hand away like it burned.

A second later and he'd dove to the deeper waters of the spring, flush on his cheeks burning hotter than the water coming from the sand that seared the bottoms of his feet.

Holy shit, why him? Of all the times for this to happen and it had to be while he was naked in a hot spring with Amaimon. Was this hell? Rin darted his gaze around himself. Okay, it was hell, literally, because where else would something like this happen to him? In Assiah?

Any second now-

Water splashed and Rin's ears caught Amaimon shifting.

"Did you want help?" There it was.

"No!" Rin faced Amaimon, eyes wide and shoulders hunched, "No, I'm okay, I'm good."

Amaimon wore what almost looked like a pout, scratching at his cheek with a black claw where he lounged on a raised bed of sand he'd formed in the water.

His gaze drew to the slim green, lizard-like tail that swayed in the air above Amaimon, mirroring the casual interest he stared at Rin with from his position laying on his stomach.

As if mirroring the sight, his own tail waved in the water at his feet, reminding him of his other problem that hadn't vanished despite the rampant embarrassment it caused.

And Amaimon still didn't look convinced.

Rin panicked, digging his foot into one of the places hot water bubbled up from and hissing at the shock of it stinging his skin.

The pain sent waves of sensation through his body and unexpected heat to his gut and Rin yelped, floundering in the water as he slipped backwards.

He fell, limbs splaying in alarm, until he landed with a crack of his skull to the stone jutting up from the sand behind him, a low groan coming out and his eyes clenching shut.

"Ow," Rin mumbled, catching the scent of his blood and wincing as he touched the back of his head where it healed.

Was it too late to kill himself now?

Opening his eyes to slivers showed him exactly what he expected. Amaimon stared, chin half in the water on his crossed arms and brows raised in a look of stupefied confusion.

"Didn't I teach you how to fall right?" Amaimon said. Somehow, Rin didn't think he would like where he went with his question. "Do you need more lessons?"

"No- yes, I want more fighting lessons, I just woke up and panicked," Rin said as he scrambled to straighten things out.

Amaimon hummed, though it sounded disappointed and Rin fought another blush when he thought about the reason. He didn't know who to thank for the fall that had jolted his body out of the previous heat he'd woken with and given him something new to focus on. But it definitely wasn't Amaimon and it definitely wasn't his stupid body for deciding to wake up that way.

One problem solved, Rin wracked his mind for another one to distract Amaimon with.

A gurgle from his stomach sent relief rushing through him and Rin shook his head to clear it further.

"Do you think we can eat now, Amaimon?" Rin asked, hand over the empty pit in his gut that seemed determined to remind him he hadn't eaten in over a day and had been running and fighting the whole time.

That was a pout for sure now pulling Amaimon's lips down, but he heaved himself off the sandbed, stretching to send a ripple of water trailing down his lithe form. Rin realized he'd been watching that path longer than he should have and forced his gaze to the side before Amaimon noticed.

His gaze caught on Mephisto and two emotions fought for dominance in his mind. Seeing the degradation blackening his body again when he wasn't two steps from collapsing cast a cold light in the heat of the springs.

On the other hand, his curiosity had just been answered.

He now knew what both Mephisto and Amaimon's tails looked like.

Rin kept his gaze from where that tail lay under the simmering water by focusing on his hunger and Amaimon.

Focus was hard to come by, another flush fighting to rise on his cheeks when Amaimon walked a little ways away, tail swaying in a slow path at his calves. Why was he still watching it? It was just a tail. Rin saw his every day he looked in a mirror after he'd gotten one.

Fingers gripping his tail in a firm stroke, a tug to sensitive nerves only used to pain from too much force or little attention paid at all, and pleasure that whited his vision out- the memory had Rin correcting the thought.

Right. That was why. Rin shook his head, rising from the hot springs to step over the damp sand and wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of it between his toes. And he kept his tail tucked close to his body out of sight.

Now that he'd left the water, he became aware that he'd spent the last who knew how many hours sleeping in it and really needed to be dry and clothed.

"Ah, Amaimon," Rin said, digging his foot down to trace a divot in the sand, "Do you have any clothes? Or can you give me mine?"

He got a blank look from over Amaimon's shoulder before he snapped his fingers and Rin found himself dried and dressed in his uniform again, the damage undone. His tail had also been wound up beneath his shirt. Rin hid a grimace, knowing the momentary freedom he'd experienced had ended and he'd be dealing with his tail cramping up before he knew it.

"Thanks, Amaimon," Rin said, then wandered over to a flattened rock on drier ground to settle on it and glanced to see where Amaimon had moved.

Another snap. Rin's nose filled with the scent of overly salted junk food and hot saliva pooled in his mouth despite wishing desperately that he had access to a kitchen so he could cook again.

Still, it vanished within moments, Rin unable to stop himself once he'd started. His stomach rebelled at his rapid pace but wild hunger overrode that pain, and soon he sucked the remainders from his fingers.

He sighed, leaning back to drop his hands to the ground as he closed his eyes to give his body a chance to realize he'd eaten.

"When we get back, I'm cooking us real food," Rin said, opening his eyes to see Amaimon facing him from his seat, having clothed himself and eaten, too.

"This is food," Amaimon said, missing the point entirely.

"Nope, your diet's as bad as Mephisto's," Rin grinned and got another confused tilt of Amaimon's head, "I'm making stuff that wasn't preserved or fried and covered in salt."

"So," Rin tapped a claw to the rock he sat on, Amaimon darting a startled look there at the sound, "What do you like to eat that isn't junk food?"

His grin stayed on his face, even with the baffled expression Amaimon still set on him, though it faded as he realized Rin waited for an answer.

"Sweets," Amaimon said in a careful tone as if unsure what Rin asked for, "I like sweet things."

Of course, not a specific meal. Rin would just have to guess what he'd like. "So, like, cake? Pastries? Chocolate? What?"

A glow lit Amaimon's eyes and excitement replaced the confusion on his face as he nodded, "Yes! All of those."

"Huh, okay," Rin smiled at the enthusiasm, "I can make us a cake, I learned how this year."

Amaimon grinned in turn, toothy, like he already imagined the cake. Then he bent forward on his crossed legs. "Samael got a cake, in his office. I want that one."

Something about that rang a bell and made Rin search his memory for why Mephisto getting a cake in his office sounded familiar.

"It was a Christmas cake, it made Samael happy."

Christmas cake. Christma-

Rin bit off a strangled shriek, pointing at Amaimon as his mouth worked soundlessly before he could blurt out, "I made that! How did you- you were there for that?"

The confirmation from Amaimon had Rin burying his face in his hands for what felt like the millionth time. Would he never live the embarrassment of the Christmas cake-Birthday cake mix-up down?

At least Amaimon didn't know the difference between the two cakes, there was always that.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled a breath, sending a twitching smile to Amaimon. "Sure, I can do that cake again."

It hadn't crossed his mind then, the only concern at the time being to get rid of the extra cake, but the knowledge that Mephisto had liked his cake, had been happy because of it, made a curl of his own happiness flutter in his chest.

Taking his hands away let him see Mephisto where Amaimon had also cleaned and clothed him, setting him to rest at his side. He'd even arranged his body so he looked like he slept. Nothing of the rot slowly consuming his vessel could be seen under the layers of his clothes.

Picking at the rock he sat on gave Rin time to put his thoughts in place. The whole situation with Mephisto seemed familiar.

Almost like…

"Hey," Rin said, knowing it was a long shot, but, now that he'd thought of it, the idea wouldn't leave him alone for some reason, "Did you ever read the fairytale 'Sleeping Beauty' before?"

"Is that a human story?" Amaimon said after a bit of silence, trying to process Rin's words, no doubt.

"Yeah, it's okay, I didn't think you had," he waved off the efforts Amaimon made to think about his question, "It's just kinda funny, what we're doing and what's up with him- ah, not 'funny' funny, but ironic funny."

At the new pause, Rin continued, trying to figure out how he would explain it, since it had been so long since he'd had the story read to him as a kid.

"It's a kid's book about a princess that gets cursed by an evil fairy so that on her sixteenth birthday she'll prick her finger on a spinning wheel and fall into a sleep-like death," Rin said, feeling the lines of the plot out like from a distant memory.

"I don't know," he said, self-conscious all of a sudden at the long stare Amaimon appraised him with, "I guess all that doesn't mean anything, but Mephisto being cursed to sleep reminded me about it."

Amaimon didn't have any emotion on his face that Rin could parse. At his side, he rubbed a groove into the stone with his thumb.

Mist rose between them and Amaimon's eyes gleamed with a strange light.

When Rin thought Amaimon wouldn't answer, he dropped his gaze and spoke in a quiet voice, bare of emotion.

"How did the story end?"

He wanted to know? Rin blinked at the unexpected question from Amaimon, seeing he'd rubbed his skin raw again in a mannerism Rin was beginning to associate with him mulling things over. Another one of those habits he realized Amaimon had, including the way he tended to chew at his black claws or bite down into his fingers until he bled.

The red welling up beneath Amaimon's thumb took his attention until Rin saw he still waited for a response, oddly patient with his lack of one.

"Well," he hesitated, unsure why and forcing himself to continue, "She gets saved with true love's kiss, it breaks the curse, she wakes up, and they live happily ever after."

"You know, fairytale stuff, like they all end," Rin said and shrugged again, wondering what Amaimon would make of a childish story like that.

Yukio and he had used to beg Shiro to read any story and, when they'd stumbled on fairytales, that had been the highlight of the next few weeks of bedtime readings. Then they'd grown out of them right around the time they started going to school.

"That won't work for Samael." Rin snapped his gaze to Amaimon, seeing he'd noticed the injury he'd caused himself and was staring down at the blood that stained his skin as he spoke.

"Well, yeah, I didn't think it would. But why not?" Rin asked, hoping Amaimon hadn't been looking to him to have a magic solution to breaking the curse.

Amaimon didn't move from his rapt attention on the repetitive motion of his hand, speaking almost as if to himself in steady words, "Demons don't love, it's a vague human concept we don't understand."

"Don't love?" Rin stopped, baffled as he tried to figure out what Amaimon meant.

"Samael always laughs at human love, he thinks it's funny," Amaimon said, finally pulling his thumb away and licking the pad of it free from the blood while he healed, "I don't get it. I don't get humans."

"Yeah," Rin mumbled and shifted where he sat, "Vague is probably a good word for it."

"You're just supposed to know it when you feel it." Which, Rin knew that wasn't any more helpful and likely wouldn't give Amaimon any breakthroughs with his feelings, whatever they might be.

He caught himself watching the way Amaimon trailed his tongue to the last of the red on his hands, searching for something to get them off of the heavy conversation topic.

His mind flashed in a sudden recollection of the way Amaimon had licked him with the point of that tapered tongue, heat rising in his face but unable to stop himself from speaking out of some morbid curiosity.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask, what was up with the tongue thing, you know, when we met Astaroth?" Did he even want to know the answer? It was too late now. Rin added, "I know it's a demon thing but I don't understand why you did it."

Amaimon cocked his head at the question, though by this point he no longer seemed surprised when Rin didn't know something related to being a demon. "Because you calmed yourself quickly, despite being in one of your rages your instincts brought out. It was a reward for good behavior."

"Good behavior?" Rin yelped, "What am I, a dog?"

"Not a dog, Rin," Amaimon said, rolling his eyes, "A demon."

Like that made it any clearer. Rin scratched at his hair, trying to understand the strange instincts that hadn't had any problem with Amaimon's reward earlier and unable to equate them to any human part of him that made sense.

But at least they'd left the previous topic. Rin sighed, relaxing against the rock more and casting a gaze to where Amaimon lounged.

It had been awhile, Rin was surprised Amaimon had let them rest for as long as he had. "Uh, when did you want to move out again, Amaimon?"

"Not yet," Amaimon waved off, "After you've digested your food so you don't vomit it up running and waste it."

"Hah, yeah, I didn't even think about that, thanks," Rin said with a laugh, glad Amaimon had anticipated that potential disaster and saved him future embarrassment.

A snap and poof of smoke brought out more of those suckers Rin was coming to associate with Amaimon with the amount of them he consumed and a stack of manga to the side.

"Where did you get those?" He gestured to the books, unable to imagine what Amaimon got from them, or why he read them at all, when he didn't understand most human things.

"They're Samael's, I borrowed them," Amaimon said, selecting one from the top and holding it by the tips of his claws as he stared at the cover like he was thinking about something.

"He collects them," Amaimon chewed at the sucker, clicking it to his teeth as his brows furrowed before turning his gaze to Rin, "I don't understand why he likes them- or any of the others. Humans don't make sense."

"Er, how come?" Rin tried, wondering what Amaimon wanted from him, because it sounded like he wanted an explanation for why Mephisto liked something. Rin barely understood himself, let alone Mephisto. Unless Amaimon meant humans? Did he want him to explain humans?

Rin hid an amused snort. If Amaimon wanted him to explain humans, he could find better teachers than Rin. Taking until the Academy to have any friends outside of his brother and the years of being a social pariah didn't make him the best candidate.

"Their actions don't make any sense," Amaimon said in a grumble, looking at the manga in his hand like it had personally insulted him by not coughing up the secrets of the reason humans were the way they were. "Every story has the same pattern and they have problems that they make worse when there's obvious solutions."

"Like what?" Rin asked, curious about what Amaimon considered an obvious solution.

"This." And Rin was handed the book in Amaimon's hands, staring up at where Amaimon stood after having walked over, an expectant expression on his face as he waited.

He looked down.

He looked again, then flipped through a few pages, face burning up to the tips of his ears with every page he scanned.

His breath came out choked at the newest page and his hands had begun to shake before he slammed the cover shut and jerked his head up to see Amaimon, arms crossed with an utter lack of awareness about what he'd just handed Rin.

"You got this from Mephisto?" Rin wanted to jump back into the hot springs to escape the situation. How did things like this keep happening to him?

Because in his hands went beyond a hentai manga and into what was now the most hardcore bit of porn he'd ever seen- something he didn't doubt Shima would kill to set his eyes on.

What was he saying? Of course Amaimon got it from Mephisto, the bastard was exactly someone who would have that type of book in his collection.

"Wh- what confused you about this one?" Rin said, trying to keep from being even more of a spaz than usual around Amaimon and honestly unable to figure out what bit of human interaction could possibly have been unclear.

"It's the same as every other story. The humans have a problem and then make it worse," Amaimon said as he plucked the book back, ignoring the twitch of Rin's fingers to glare at the cover. "This human keeps letting the other one interfere with their courtship when they should just fight or kill the other to keep them away instead of wasting time."

Oh. Rin wanted to laugh, incredulous that of course Amaimon would focus on that portion of the book and not the graphic sex and violence in it.

At least he could answer that particular question, though whether Amaimon would actually understand it was anybody's guess.

"Humans can't just go around killing each other when they get angry or we'd all be dead," Rin started, "Though I can't talk about the fighting because I got into tons growing up."

Still did, in fact. But at least most of the fights he got into nowadays were sanctioned by the Order as missions.

"It's not like we get a new vessel when we die. Once it's over, that's it." Rin had a feeling Amaimon wouldn't care very much about the lives of some random humans.

"It's like," he chewed at his lip, gaze flicking to Mephisto, "It's like if Mephisto dies like this, he's not coming back, so it's important to save him."

How did it come that he was talking about the sanctity of life because of a hentai manga? Yukio would be laughing at him if he could see him now.

"And," Amaimon said, drawing him out of his thoughts as he tapped a claw to the book, "That's why humans do the strange things they do? Fear of death?"

"Er, yeah, I guess," Rin said. That was one way to put it. "I mean, I don't want Mephisto to die, that's why I'm here."

Cold, reptilian eyes met his and Rin fought the urge to fidget under that stare.

"Did," Rin hesitated, unable to tell if Amaimon was satisfied, "Did that help?"

Instead of responding right away, Amaimon vanished the book in a poof of smoke and went to drop back to his rock.

His other habit showed itself, fangs clicking over a black claw as he chewed the nail with a faraway gaze. Just like the day in the alley when Amaimon had declared he'd help Rin, he seemed to come to a decision.

"I owe him." Rin released a questioning sound at the non-sequitur, not knowing where it had come from or where Amaimon was going with it.

Amaimon tapped a claw to his chest, staring down with eyes that seemed lost in memory. "This body doesn't hurt. It used to be every moment was a slow torture while my host ate itself away. That's the way it is for all of us. He's the reason I don't feel like chewing my own fingers off or flaying the skin from my bones to escape the agony. I owe him."

It came to Rin in a flash and his breath caught. "That's why you're helping him?"

"Yes," Amaimon said, simple, not giving Rin anything else.

That was the explanation behind Amaimon's three-word answer he'd given all the other kings, Rin, and Yukio. He owed Mephisto. Rin scanned his gaze over Amaimon, trying to put into words what that revelation meant.

Rin felt the words in his thoughts, mulling over them and picking them apart. He owed Mephisto, so that was why he went against all of Gehenna, Satan, Lucifer, the Order.

It didn't sound like the whole truth, still.

But, it was more truth than he'd expected to be gifted, more insight into Amaimon than he thought he would hear.

The sullen way Amaimon looked at him, as if waiting for a response and prepared to get defensive over the vulnerability had Rin holding his first reaction back.

Really, that Amaimon had spoken to him at all when he'd guarded his reasoning with everyone else said something Rin couldn't place yet.

And, something else had just become clear.

"You know," Rin said, grinning at the admission he was about to make, "In the beginning I really thought you didn't care whether he lived or died. I'm sorry, just because you don't show it the same way as I do doesn't mean you don't care."

Amaimon looked away and Rin had a feeling the open words, laying the truth out like that, was causing some embarrassment in the emotionally stunted demon.

Whether he owed Mephisto or not, Amaimon had stuck with Rin despite the odds thrown their way. Maybe he dressed it up like having Mephisto owe him a favor was the driving focus, but, like Iblis had pointed out, Amaimon didn't seem the type to care about favors.

Rin couldn't think of any other reason for Amaimon to help him, even if he maintained that the only reason he stayed was for owing Mephisto.

"We should move on now," Amaimon said, choosing to avoid what Rin had brought up and bending to take Mephisto into his arms. Rin stood too, then startled as he found his own arms full of Mephisto, fumbling at the sudden weight with a gasp.

"You- you're letting me carry him?" Rin hesitated in asking the question. Would Amaimon take him back because he'd mentioned it? And why had he gone from not letting Rin before when he'd asked?

Placid eyes swept Rin's form. "You were able to keep up, you can watch him now without getting killed."

Fluttering in Rin's chest at the acknowledgment of his improvement, of his abilities, being told without the precise words that Amaimon trusted him to defend Mephisto, made a wide smile spread across his face.

"Okay, I'm ready when you are," Rin said, getting a grunt from Amaimon.

This time, when the snap to teleport them came, Rin was ready for it, not feeling the usual vertigo as much and following after Amaimon as soon as he took off.

"This is Lucifer's domain," Amaimon called back to him while Rin shivered at the mention of the king of light.

He remembered his one encounter, the dead-eyed gaze that met him through a gilded mask and the scent of rot hanging heavy in the air between them.

That day, he'd launched himself at Lucifer in a furious attack, determined to do anything to stop the being who'd enabled Shima to kidnap Izumo for the Illuminati's experiments. After experiencing the power Amaimon wielded, Rin knew how laughable his attempt had been. Mephisto's words, how he'd said even he couldn't fight Lucifer, rang back at him, and Rin couldn't help wondering how they would survive if Lucifer decided to just bring him straight to Satan.

Worrying about it wouldn't change their course, though, so Rin shoved the fear down to focus on running.

Now that they were in his domain, it meant they would be traveling by foot the whole way again. Rin readied himself for another who knew how long of leaping over mountain ledges, realizing it could get worse. Where before they'd at least been going across mostly flat ground, now, he had to launch himself through a minefield of boulders and over deep crevasses.

Amaimon kept them on a path traveling along the base, not ascending up the peaks. Every now and then they came along another hot spring, the steam wafting over Rin's cheeks in a brief caress before the cold of the mountain air replaced it again.

Rin tightened his arms around Mephisto, wincing as he caught a trace of the degradation peeking from under his collar. His mood dragged with the thoughts welling up now that he didn't have any conversation to keep them at bay.

Just beneath the layers of Mephisto's suit was a trail of dark rot creeping up over his skin. If Rin pressed too hard, would it worsen those marks? If it was showing on the surface, did that mean it was already eating away at his organs? How long did he actually have?

His hair where it scratched at Rin's cheeks felt more like fragile straw than anything. Fear wormed into his heart that if he accidentally yanked at it, it would fall from Mephisto's scalp or break apart in his hands.

Was this what Lucifer looked like beneath his mask?

If Rin couldn't still feel a faint warmth and hear the slow, even heartbeat behind his ribs, then he would think Mephisto had died in his arms.

They just had to make it to Lucifer, Rin told himself, ignoring everything that might go wrong. If Lucifer didn't have a solution, he didn't know what they would do.

He did know one thing. Even if Lucifer didn't have the answer, as long as Mephisto still had a heartbeat, he wouldn't stop trying to save him. He'd come too far not to.

It was too much to worry about now, not when it wouldn't help anything.

Amaimon didn't know how long the process would last. Rin flicked his gaze from the route he traversed to take in the silent figure bounding over the treacherous mountain. He'd been in Assiah when Mephisto's... other half, his claim, had died.

There was so much Rin didn't understand about being a demon yet. Getting claws and fangs, his tail, the flames, it had only been the peak of a vast laundry list of things he had to learn now. The claim was just the newest thing he never thought would be so important.

A shudder went through his body that had nothing to do with the cold. The memory of Iblis, of the soft press of her cheek to his and the way she'd shoved against his body like she would eclipse him if he let her had his teeth itching to extend.

She didn't have any right- Rin shook his head free of the phantom touch, though it took sucking in a deep breath to convince his body to relax. Catching the scents of the strange air he moved through didn't help settle him, too alien and filled with potential threats in every faint trail. So, Rin focused on Amaimon and Mephisto, feeling his hackles soothe until he'd put the reaction away.

That settled it. He had to ask Amaimon more about claims. What if one of his friends or Yukio hugged him wrong? Would he lash out on instinct? If some person brushed past him while he walked, would that bring out the urge to tear them apart?

Once again, his mood worsened. He'd been able to ignore so much about what made him different, made him dangerous, while he'd been amongst his friends on Assiah. But now that Rin had shed the mannerisms he needed to fit in and let loose, seen what he could do without those shackles on his abilities, it became more and more apparent just how different he was.

What had he screamed, that night everything had gone wrong? I'm human? Rin burrowed his nose into the folds of fabric that made up Mephisto's cape, eyes shuttering. He tensed his legs and darted between craggy boulders faster than any human could ever imagine moving under their own power.

Even now, having been running through terrain that would take a person hours if not longer to navigate, Rin knew he could keep going, maybe not for the length of time Amaimon could, but enough, more than enough.

Thinking about it made Rin want to feel the horror and fear that had stricken his mind that night but something stopped it from forming. Rin hid a growl of self-directed irritation into Mephisto's shoulder, adjusting and firming his grip on him as he jerked his attention away from his inner headache.

His problem was he'd had too long in his own thoughts, Rin decided. Not that he had much of a choice. At this point he almost wished something would attack them again.

Another dozen miles passed in a blur, the serene hot springs calling out to him whenever they came upon one.

Rin realized he hadn't seen anything yet, just a barren landscape echoing with their steps whenever they landed to send rocks skittering below. Was it because Lucifer had done with Iblis had? That would mean he had patrols of his own searching for their whereabouts, right?

He'd ask when Amaimon found their next rest spot.

Snow-capped ridges filled his eyes as far as he could see into the murky, unchanging sky. Rin felt small against them.

Haziness crept up on Rin, shaking him from the automatic zone he'd fallen into for who knew how long. A now familiar trembling had begun in his limbs, hands cramping from holding Mephisto in place.

Was it time? He had to keep going, should keep going, Amaimon would be annoyed if- Rin frowned, correcting his tired thoughts. Amaimon hadn't complained any of the other nights Rin's lesser endurance had given out, forcing him to sleep when he'd tried to continue at the hot spring. Amaimon, Rin had learned, was more about what made sense, not putting on a false bravado.

Stone slipped under Rin's next impact and his bones ached.

"Amaimon!" His voice rasped out of his throat from disuse but Amaimon heard him and flicked a hand at his side, darting that way in the next moment. Rin followed, a passing hope in his mind that-

-Yep, Rin grinned, touching down where Amaimon had and shivering in the steam curling around their bodies. Amaimon had found them another hot spring to rest by.

Setting Mephisto down on a dry section of earth let Rin shake his arms that had gone numb in the day of ping-ponging over a whole mountain range. He dropped next to him, head tilting back to rest on the rough stone wall and a sigh escaping his lips.

"Hey, Amaimon?" He cracked his eyes open, seeing Amaimon had been watching him in what Rin probably would have considered threatening silence if he hadn't gotten used to the long stares at his jugular by then.

"Why's it so empty here? Did Lucifer kill everything like Iblis did?"

The question loosened the eerie stillness in Amaimon and he shifted to a more natural posture, crossing his arms and humming as he answered, "No, Lucifer doesn't need to."

"Why not?" Didn't need to? Rin glanced around. What was preventing him?

"It's the same with Samael and Azazel's territories, though Azazel not as much," Amaimon said with a shrug as he snapped more junk food into existence for them, "The stronger the demon king, the less kin they have to populate their territories."

"And," Amaimon continued, gesturing to the mountains, "Very few demons can survive this area."

"Really? Why not? It doesn't seem so bad," Rin blinked as he tried to figure out what could prevent demons from living some place as neat as a hot spring."

Snickering from Amaimon had Rin shooting him a look, especially once he saw the smirk there.

"You really don't know, do you?" Amaimon said with another laugh, "Even in Iblis' territory you didn't say anything."

"Okay, what didn't I notice?" Rin grumbled, aware it was another demon thing and already preparing for whatever strange revelation he'd get this time.

Amaimon seemed to track something in the air, though when Rin looked, he couldn't see anything.

"The energy of our territories and our wards is inherently threatening to demons lesser in the hierarchy," he said, finally, "It's probably your heritage. Every other demon wouldn't last very long before they needed to leave again."

"Threatening?" Rin startled, "Like dangerous? I mean, that forest was kinda creepy but only when you told me about the whole soul-stealing thing, and it's really nice here."

A wry grin from Amaimon had Rin hiding another sigh as he waited.

"It degrades them, they weaken with every passing moment the longer they stay," Amaimon said, though it took Rin an extra moment to understand, "Unless they're kin to the king whose territory they're in, otherwise they stay in the middle lands or their own territories, if they aren't kin to a king."

It sounded like something Rin should have learned in a lecture at the Academy, but he didn't know if what Amaimon was telling him was even common knowledge to the people in Assiah or something only demons knew.

"Gotcha," Rin said to let Amaimon know he could move on. Which brought Rin to the next thing tugging at his mind.

For a reason he couldn't place, Rin wanted to hesitate. He pulled his knees to his chest, ducking his chin to stare up at Amaimon beneath his bangs. Amaimon noticed, though he didn't say anything, giving Rin time to figure it out.

He'd moved to his own spot opposite him, and something about it unsettled Rin that he chalked up to not seeing Mephisto at his side like usual.

"Can you-" Rin cut himself off, gaze dropping as he chewed at his lips, "-Why did I react like that, that whole thing with Iblis earlier?"

Even just talking about it had him wanting to both lash out and curl himself into the nearest defensive corner. He hoped Amaimon couldn't see the aborted shiver he ruthlessly crushed the moment it formed.

"Fire is greedy."

What? Rin turned his gaze up to see Amaimon, wondering what that had to do with his question.

"Iblis," Amaimon said, looking straight at Rin with his own heavy stare from gold eyes, "Is like a forest fire, warm from a distance, but all-consuming when you get too close."

The words were almost poetic in their cadence, something Rin would have never expected from someone as blunt and to the point as Amaimon. He found himself drawn in, a part of his anxiety falling away.

"Iblis knew the chances of claiming you would be slim."

Rin wanted to interrupt to ask why, still not understanding. The way Amaimon pinned him in his gaze wouldn't let him.

"She tried anyway, because that's her nature. To consume."

"And," Rin spoke up as Amaimon finished, releasing his bottom lip from his teeth when he noticed he'd bit until it bled, "That's why she did that? I still don't know why it made me feel like that."

Like he would do anything to get away, to claw at her until she couldn't try it again. He hadn't felt safe until he'd been out of her grasp and back at Amaimon's side.

Was that another thing he should ask about? Amaimon had him in that unwavering stare that hid what he might be thinking about behind a cool visage.

He scratched at his wrist, hunching further over his knees and hearing his voice coming out quiet with the revealed information, "It was better, once I used what you taught me and got out of there- back by you. But if she'd tried to come closer, I think I would have attacked her. I think I would have tried to kill her."

"I'm just-" Rin sucked in a breath, worrying his sleeves between black claws, "-I'm just scared I'll do that- attack my friends- and I don't want to."

Would Amaimon even understand that fear eating holes into his mind? If demons didn't love, would Amaimon care that Rin was terrified to hurt the ones important to him if- when- he inevitably lost control again?

Silence. Amaimon hadn't said anything yet. Rin pulled his gaze from the now frayed fabric of his shirt.

Wide eyes, an expression Rin would call stunned on anyone else, locked on him before blinking, startled by his attention.

Amaimon opened his mouth and nothing came out, making Rin more alert as he cocked his head, a questioning sound beginning to form.

"Yes," Amaimon said, sharp and shaking his head to send his choppy bangs slashing over his eyes where Rin could see the pupils had slivered in the irises, "If a human tries to mimic a claim your instincts will rebel, not that they could even put a claim on something, they don't have the ability."

"Oh," Rin stuttered, heart dropping in his chest at the confirmation of his fears but still bewildered by whatever was up with Amaimon. "So I shouldn't let them touch me? Ever?"

If a hug from his friends- or Yukio or if he hugged Kuro- was enough to set him off, Rin didn't know how he would survive.

But Amaimon shook his head in the negative again, calmer now and back to his usual lack of expression, calming Rin in turn, "No, it has to be a dominating or possessive touch, one with intent."

Yeah, that was right. The encroaching tendrils of fear dispersed with Amaimon's words as Rin remembered he'd had plenty of casual hugs or touches with his friends that hadn't sent off the sheer sense of wrongness that Iblis' had since his awakening.

"Good. That's- that's good," Rin said, a soft exhale coming out with his slowing heartbeat.

"Thanks, Amaimon." He smiled, getting a careful nod in turn as if Amaimon wasn't sure why he thanked him but would accept it anyway. It made Rin's smile turn wry before breaking into a yawn, the journey catching up to him, finally.

He stretched and felt several pops from the curled position he'd been in, groaning as he twisted his spine before slumping. A quick glance of the ravine they'd stopped in told him he could either sleep where he was or try for the hot springs again.

Which, that wasn't a bad idea, anything to let his tail relax so he didn't have to revisit the pain of it cramping after being wound up too long.

"I think I'm gonna sleep in the water again, Amaimon," Rin said as he began peeling himself out of his clothes that had become tacky after being run in for the day.

The earlier fear that Amaimon would try to grab his tail again like he had the first time had faded now that he knew Amaimon wasn't going to push anything. Despite Amaimon offering to...help, he'd listened when Rin had said 'no.'

Rin let out a quiet groan when he unwound his tail, the ache not as bad as it had been, but still very noticeable.

Sinking into the water made him shudder and sigh at the heat, flicking his tail beneath the surface and enjoying the bubbles loosening the matted fur to tickle him with the sensation.

Occasional pain from the hot vents burned when he stepped over them but Rin just ignored the bright flash to his nerves to lay in the shallows with his cheek on his crossed arms.

His lids squinted open, glancing to see where Amaimon had decided to stay for the time. If he'd gone back to Mephisto's side or remained where he was.

Amaimon hadn't moved, making Rin blink his eyes open more in puzzlement. And was Amaimon zoning out again or deliberately not looking at him? Rin couldn't tell.

He'd grown used to the various empty masks Amaimon shifted between and the one he currently wore seemed somehow strained compared to the others. It wasn't like Amaimon had ever had trouble with long, uncomfortable staring before.

Another thought worried at his mind, pressing him to speak it.

"Hey, Amaimon," it drifted over the steam to make Amaimon's ears twitch, "It doesn't always feel that awful, does it?"

"No," came the slow answer as Amaimon finally looked at him. His tongue darted over his lips in what Rin would swear was a nervous fidget, "You have one with your familiar, it's not the same when you accept the claim."

Right. Rin breathed a deeper sigh of relief, dropping his forehead to his arms. He had one with Kuro, even if he couldn't see it, and he loved his familiar just as much as Yukio. Kuro had become family, and not just because he was a little piece of Shiro, but because the loyalty and affection he so freely gave Rin, the comfort they both took in being there for each other after Shiro's death.

If sharing a claim just solidified that bond he had with the people and beings he loved most, then Rin didn't mind having one.

"That's cool, then," Rin said, smile curving the corners of his mouth up at Amaimon, "I didn't think Mephisto would have something like that, but I'm glad he did."

Maybe it wasn't love in particular that demons felt, but a connection was a connection, in Rin's head.

A hitched breath stole his attention back to Amaimon and Rin frowned. He looked almost stricken, features like stone and eyes wide, while his claws dug into the sand.

But…

Rin's contented mood fell at his next thought. Would it be right to bring it up?

Had Kuro had a claim on Shiro?

He sat up, knowing he might be treading dangerous waters, and saw Amaimon tense.

"If one half dies," Rin said from a suddenly dry throat, "Does it hurt whoever's left behind?"

Maybe it was too sensitive. Rin shook his head, "You don't have to answer if I'm being nosy. Sorry."

Amaimon didn't break expression, and his voice, when it came out, was monotone, "Claims fade naturally on their own if not maintained, the feeling is something like that."

So, it was no wonder Kuro hadn't known about Shiro's death, since who knew how long it had been since his dad had even seen Kuro before it happened.

"It does hurt, then," Rin guessed, rubbing a thumb to his arm and wondering at what something like that would feel like. Would he feel it after being away from Kuro too long? When would it happen?

Did he even have that time to find out? Rin thought that, if he checked right now, the rot on Mephisto's body would have spread just in the time they'd been talking.

"Wait," a flash of memory pricked at Rin's mind and fell from his lips before he could stop himself, "If you were in Assiah, how did you know Abdux- er, Abduxuel died? I thought it was just him and Mephisto with the claims on each other?"

Hissing sent him jolting in the water, bared fangs and glowing eyes making Rin backpedal at the warning snarl from Amaimon.

Shit! Rin cursed internally, rewinding his stupid question in his mind and realizing he should have known it would get a reaction like that after the one about Behemoth had done the same.

"Sorry!" Rin burst out, guilt making him flush in shame at stepping on something that clearly bothered Amaimon like that- hell, if someone had asked him a question about Shiro, he'd be getting defensive, too.

"Sorry," he repeated, clenching his eyes closed, "You don't have to answer that, it's none of my business."

He'd gotten so used to Amaimon answering every dumb question that came into his head. Had become comfortable in his nosiness, in the familiarity that had grown between them. He'd forgotten Amaimon wasn't his teacher, wasn't Yukio, was a who knew how old demon king that had buttons and boundaries Rin apparently couldn't keep from tripping straight into every day since they'd stopped fighting and started living in each other's pockets.

Nevermind that his question was insensitive even by human standards and why had Rin decided it was alright to ask him that?

The growling tapered off, but Rin still waited for an attack or warning or threat and held his breath for it.

His heart beat erratically, the sound almost covering the thudding in Amaimon's chest and the steady rhythm in Mephisto's that he strained his senses to pick up.

"It," the word seeped from Amaimon's mouth, serpentine, "Had nothing to do with a claim."

Rin wanted to flinch again but strangled the urge because Amaimon had told him not to be prey. Sucking in a deep breath allowed him to raise his head so he could gauge how upset Amaimon actually was.

At least his eyes weren't glowing, Rin saw when he looked and had to hide another wince.

"A king's death," Amaimon said, slow and deliberate, "Is not like any of the worms that exist in Gehenna or Assiah."

Why? Rin tried to ask, but he couldn't make the question form. Amaimon picked up on it anyway, bowing forward over his knees where he sat to glare beneath his bangs.

"These vessels are meaningless," to reinforce his point, Amaimon gouged a claw through his palm, taking it out to flick the blood free while he healed, "To truly die, our demonic hearts need to die."

Yeah, Rin remembered the importance of protecting his heart, hand coming up to press at his chest as if he could feel it when he knew it resided in his sword.

"It's never happened before Abduxuel," Amaimon lost some of the ire in his posture. Rin thought the expression he wore might be called weary and his own mood fell with the sight of it.

Amaimon's gaze drifted to where Mephisto lay before he seemed to deflate, tension leaving him almost slumped and Rin floundering for something to say.

"You can't kill a concept," Amaimon said, muted to match the dull shadows over his irises from his shuttered lids, "But, you can erase the personification representing one."

Licking at his dry lips gave Rin the chance to think through what he would say this time, "And you- I remember you said people forgot him, right? Only you guys remember him?"

A nod in confirmation came from Amaimon. He seemed to be made of the same stone he sat on.

"When he died," Amaimon began after awhile where Rin thought he might have considered the conversation finished, "We all felt it."

Rin listened as the picture of that day slipped free like blood from stone out of Amaimon. Warmth, where he hadn't expected any.

---

He flicked a stone into a still lake and hated.

The wounds to his vessel had long faded, but he rubbed a clawed finger over where one had been like he could feel the phantom pain all over again.

There was no retribution he could take, no way to come out the victor in any confrontation.

Egyn would laugh the same way he'd done the first time and turn every attack he made into so much muck to drag him down.

'You'll drown in the same mud you came from.'

Amaimon felt the familiar urge to destroy at the memory of Egyn's last words to him before he'd fled. He let the earth beneath him rumble before the new ripples in the water made him stop.

Now, after years roaming Assiah, Amaimon still couldn't think of a way free from that mire.

He'd been infected by something he didn't have a name for.

Assiah was empty of anything to keep him entertained for long, but Gehenna had soured for him, too.

Attempting to go to Samael or track down Abduxuel had yielded nothing, the demon in Samael's servitude revealing they, too, had gone to Gehenna.

What was Samael even doing in Gehenna? The curiosity had nearly led Amaimon back there. He knew how bored Samael was of their world, only returning when Abduxuel managed to convince him every century or so or Lucifer called him back.

Samael's humans kept him entertained, another mystery Amaimon didn't think he would ever understand. Their mayfly lives and fragility made them worthless to play with. What was the point of toying with them when one slip-up would pop them like the bubbles gathering on the shore edge.

They bred quickly and died just as fast.

Still...

Amaimon plucked at a blade of grass, feeling the life inside it trying to expand, the roots digging into the black sand of the shore and searching for the fuel necessary to perform its function.

At the end of it all, humans and plants and everything else on Assiah would return to the earth until the earth returned to the cosmic dust it had formed from. Whether he would also return to that existence was something only Samael knew.

He could at least enjoy the things humans created while they were around to make them, he understood that much. Amaimon snapped and brought out some of the new sweets they'd invented in the centuries he'd been in Gehenna, humming with pleasure at the burst of flavor on his vessel's tongue.

The collapsing of a star, void eaten, dissolved, vanished like it had never been-!

Space reformed as Space-Time.

Amaimon became aware of a long keen splitting the air and birds taking flight from the trees in a panicked cacophony.

Ragged cries escaped his mouth. He shuddered on the ground and clawed into the earth as if he could escape the knowledge that had been torn from his mind, new knowledge shoved into place as if it had always been.

No!

Samael hadn't always-

Abduxuel had been-

What was-

He didn't understand!

His chest ached with the panting breaths heaving through him as he hyperventilated, eyes staring, shot open wide but unseeing, at the still waters.

How could they be still when his entire world had just been sundered?

Gehenna, he had to go to Gehenna. His legs jerked as if on puppet strings when he rose, gaze darting around the clearing and shaking where he stood, frozen for another moment in indecision.

A wrenching gasp, Amaimon snapped and vanished.

The eternal skies of Gehenna greeted his eyes but he didn't pay them attention, claws flexing at his sides as he tried to figure out where to go.

Samael's territory? Abduxuel's? They were the same-

No! They hadn't been the same, so why-?

He didn't know. But Lucifer would. Lucifer's territory remained fixed, it hadn't shifted like space-time, light remained constant.

Amaimon snapped again to appear at the closest point to Lucifer's, bolting over the edge of the wards and putting every ounce of energy he had into his vessel that it could handle without ripping apart.

His body strained to its limits, taking him over mountains and up into the icy peaks as the distance passed in a chaotic blur he couldn't remember if he tried.

Soon, the gleaming palace at the top of the tallest mountain formed from the clouds, Amaimon bursting from the last layer of mist that froze to his flushed cheeks with the subzero temperatures.

But it wasn't the cold that had his hands shivering when he pushed open the doors at the entrance, it was the scents he picked up. Samael was there, along with Egyn, Lucifer, and older traces of Iblis, Astaroth, Azazel and Beelzebub.

How had he missed that everyone had congregated at Lucifer's, even if only three of them were there now?

And, if the others had been here, then where was Abduxuel?

Bright light, the same Lucifer always kept his palace swathed in, had Amaimon's eyes squeezing shut until he could adjust, moving based on memory and smell.

"Amaimon." He stopped at the sound of his name, insides hardened like cold stones weighing him down.

When he jerked his gaze to the source, confusion leadened further within his gut.

"Lucifer?" Amaimon couldn't say anything else, staring up into the emotionless gaze of the king of light now pinning him in place.

"Samael is further ahead," Lucifer said, voice betraying nothing.

Then, "Welcome home, Amaimon."

He'd left before the last syllable dropped from Lucifer's mouth, following the scent trail to closed doors and throwing them open the moment he reached them.

Abduxuel's deep green eyes stared back at him and Amaimon released a shrieking hiss, unable to stop.

Wrong. It was wrong!

"Why do you look like him?" Amaimon snarled, fangs bared with the confusion and horror staining the blood in his veins black.

Samael stared back from the shadows of the dark room, but he did it through Abduxuel's eyes.

Amaimon flicked his gaze to see the gold iridescent sheen that usually crowned the deep blue of Abduxuel's hair replacing the lighter purple that should be on Samael.

And the rest of the scene revealed itself.

Utter chaos. Everything that could be destroyed, had been, the room torn as if by a wild animal to leave the shattered remains tossed around like a tornado or tsunami had been through.

Only Samael stood amongst the wreckage, still silent and refusing to stop staring at Amaimon from eyes that didn't belong to him.

His naked body showed signs of rapid healing. Familiar bruises Amaimon had on his own from the spreading rot told of almost total degradation. He'd never seen Samael so degraded before, his abilities as king of time prevented it.

So why?

Samael stepped aside and the darkness parted around his feet. Amaimon sucked in a harsh breath.

"The king killer took him," empty words left Samael but they didn't make sense, "A curse that the humans will start to call briar rose syndrome, once they learn about it."

On the floor, the desiccated husk of a degraded vessel eclipsed his vision. Nothing inhabited it, no trace of the being who'd possessed it, not even his scent.

There wasn't anything to mark that it had belonged to Abduxuel except Samael's words and the shape he'd recognize anywhere.

Amaimon snapped his gaze back to Samael, rage sharpening his tongue as he lashed out in fury, "He's inside you! I can sense his aspect- why is he inside you?"

The hollow look vanished from Samael, snarl twisting to bare bristling fangs as he brought his power down on Amaimon in the next instance.

His power, and Abduxuel's.

It crushed him to the floor, drove him down until he ached and he thought his bones might be crumbling to dust under the strain.

Just as quickly as it started, Samael drew up short, pulling his aspect- Abduxuel's aspect- back into his vessel. A long hiss like a vicious serpent cut across the space between them as Amaimon gagged while his body healed.

Accusation dripped like poison in the glare he sent towards Samael, unable to do more as he shuddered where he lay.

Samael inhaled a long breath through his nose, warped features fading back to that hollow chill Amaimon had found him with.

"He's gone. I'm the king of space and time now," that answered nothing. Samael continued as if he wasn't aware of that fact at all, "And we'll speak no more of this."

Bitterness welled up with the scream he wanted to loose behind his lips, but it never broke free, caught like Amaimon was by Samael.

"I'm going back to Assiah," Samael said, stepping towards Amaimon, the bare pads of his feet crunching over splintered glass to leave red footprints until he stood overhead, "I know you've been there for some years now. You may join me or stay here."

Join him? A thin breath seeped from his lungs and past his bloodstained lips, mouth gaping silently until Samael shrugged, body healed as if the rot had never been.

"Fine then, goodbye, Amaimon."

Snapping brought one of Abduxuel's keys to his hand.

The last Amaimon saw of him was his tail where it hung, the end disheveled and knotted, by his ankles. Then Samael was through the entrance to the room.

Back to Assiah.

Clicking from the door shutting startled Amaimon from his stupor, jerking in place as if attacked.

His gaze flicked around, landing on the body, cold, lifeless, still nothing in it to say that it had once held the aspect of space, once held Abduxuel.

Amaimon crawled to his knees.

He fled.

---

Waking came with the smell of petrichor, the scent he now associated with earth, with Amaimon. It enveloped him, a balm over the frustration he always felt with the return of his mind to the endless waters of his prison.

A hazy memory of a previous waking drew him away from sinking too deep into the scent.

He'd heard Abduxuel, heard his voice, the familiarity obvious as he spoke to someone whose response he couldn't make out.

That was fine. He didn't need to know who he spoke to in this instance, just that he had his voice memorized and hungered for more. Now, he just needed his appearance, since taste and touch were likely out of the question until he escaped this cage.

Though it was impossible to say why he'd remembered Amaimon and Abduxuel over another's existence, he wondered where they were now. Was it possible they searched for a way to free him? Or, were these memories out of date and some rift had occurred between them to make that unlikely.

It could be that neither was in his life anymore, nevermind that, without something like the knowledge that he'd shared a claim with Abduxuel, he had no idea what his connection to Amaimon could be, if he had one at all.

He huffed a slightly harder breath that tried to be a wry snort. So far, of the names he knew, both began with an 'A'. What were the chances that the second voice's name also started with that letter?

Maybe, if he discovered the second voice's name and concept it would reveal who Amaimon was to him, too.

Any memory, good or bad, would be welcome, as long as it gave him something to go on, some clarity, and, potentially, some way free from his prison.

The weariness that usually dragged at his mind had faded somewhat after the last bout of unconsciousness. While it was nice to be able to think with less of that mental haze, the sheer boredom he faced almost had him wishing he could sleep again until his voices or a memory came back.

As if because of his desire for them, a ripple went across the water. He flicked an impatient gaze around, hearing pricked for who would show up first and if he would see their faces again.

Would it be Amaimon? Or the second voice? Maybe he would even see Abduxuel this time.

"Ngh." The second voice, where-?

From the sounds of it, the second voice was uncomfortable. Could it be because of the fighting he'd done in the last appearance? Was the story progression linear after-all?

An outline sketched itself into the clouds. The second voice, blue eyes squinted in mild pain and sleeve torn to reveal a dislocated shoulder. So, it was a linear timeline, at least, the last few sequences had been.

Blue eyes turned to him, still as vibrant as they'd been the first time he saw them, and he spoke, "Oh, you're awake, are you okay now?"

Amaimon. He must be talking about Amaimon. But why was he just holding a hand to his shoulder? He'd seen him heal from far worse, a sentiment echoed by Amaimon's question, "What are you doing?"

Then he understood, watching the sheepish expression on the second voice's face as he asked for help setting his shoulder back in place.

Sharp laughter from Amaimon had a chuckle of his own wanting to form. How sweet. Again, the dichotomy of a being who could fight through hordes of enemies and roar to shake existence yet couldn't pop his own shoulder back into place or know about claims and keeping his tail hidden sent amusement bubbling in his chest.

Another moment passed, a scowl on the second voice's face in response to the laugh, and a new outline sketched itself into the sky.

Ah. He wanted to purr as Amaimon took shape, seeing the humor in those brilliant gold eyes where they looked at the second voice even while his expression didn't reflect it.

He watched the simple teaching moment between the two, Amaimon efficient and covering his bases so that the second voice would know how to both set his own or someone else's arm if the situation arose again.

Still, seeing them together and not just one or the other was revealing new information to him about their dynamic that words alone hadn't done yet.

The second voice was utterly oblivious to the effect he had on Amaimon.

His lips twitched, wishing he could dissolve into laughter at the slivering pupils in those gold eyes when the second voice put his hands on Amaimon's arm to reset his shoulder.

Beautiful, and a fascinating development to boot. It seemed the tail incident had more than one casualty. Although, a glance to the second voice showed faint bruises darkening in shadows under his eyes, so perhaps it wasn't that he'd forgotten the lesson on etiquette, but that he was too exhausted to notice anything, even those things right in front of his nose.

They moved past it without incident, though he didn't think the second voice would be up for anything with the way he stumbled to his feet. A moment later and he was proven correct, Amaimon noticing the wince of pain the second voice tried to cover up, arms crossed over his chest and rubbing at what must be the source.

His sudden request for a bath had the problem taking shape in his mind, though he could see Amaimon still hadn't connected the dots.

Time skipped with a snap of Amaimon's fingers and reformed to show confusion that faded to shock on the second voice's features.

"There's hot springs in this area, is this good enough?" He wanted to laugh again at Amaimon's defensiveness. Though if one were to ask him, a good bath wouldn't be some hole in the ground. Not that he would be spending any amount of time in a bath once he freed himself from his prison.

"It's perfect!" Bright, unfiltered joy on the second voice's face almost distracted him from the way he began to strip down.

And the way Amaimon's pupils dilated before slivering again at the sight.

He would have mocked him for the reaction if his own breath hadn't caught when he saw that black tail unwinding from the second voice's waist to shiver and coil where it touched the water.

Like spilled ink on a blue canvas.

Oh.

That absolute tease. But he could tell by the way the second voice sighed and released the tension knotting his spine that it was completely unintentional. He really had no idea.

Had he grown the damn thing yesterday? How could he be so naive to-

-Even worse, it was even worse than he'd suspected.

Tears in those blue eyes where he looked down at his tail, a hand reaching out to fix what looked like a painful kink in the appendage.

Amaimon didn't say anything to stop the chain of events.

A moan left the second voice's mouth that made him want to let out one of his own, though his was of utter frustration and very much echoed by Amaimon if the glaze in his eyes was anything to go by.

Unbelievable. His chest tightened, unable to look away as Amaimon couldn't, fixated on the sight of the second voice sinking into the water and one step from pouncing.

But the second voice collapsing under water to scream into the bubbles halted things, even more once he jerked back out and stumbled to the far side. Surely Amaimon would follow after him now. He made such a tempting sight, disheveled and red-faced where he tried to hide.

"Don't ask," he said to the confusion Amaimon started to voice, hand jerking out of the water to halt his advancement, "Just get in the water, please."

Hmm, get in the water? If he'd been capable of it he would be purring. By the way Amaimon didn't just vanish his clothes, instead made a show of taking them off and stretching a lovely green tail out behind him, he shared the thought going through his mind.

Tension sparked between them, Amaimon prowling deeper in with an audible purr and the second voice's pupils dilating, betraying whatever reluctance he might have had as flimsy at best.

Just when he thought things would get interesting, the second voice spoke, "Hey, we should get - in here, too."

What? His bafflement was mirrored on Amaimon's face. A name. A third person? Who? Or was the second voice speaking about something else.

Gold eyes darted towards him from the sky, a strange emotion in them that he couldn't decipher before they were back on the second voice again.

"Why?" Exactly.

"Why not?"

Absolutely unhelpful. A long sigh left his mouth, knowing he was unlikely to ever get the answers to the questions the second voice created just by existing.

Amaimon came to the same conclusion, snapping his fingers, though what the snap had done wasn't clear.

What was clear was the look of horror overtaking the second voice's features, halting any play that might have happened.

Just as the second voice opened his mouth, the record skipped, their outlines fading.

No! He tried to snarl, knowing answers lay just out of reach, that there was something in that conversation that was what he sought, possibly even clues about who he was.

Come back! Fury seared through his lungs, eyes blown wide and pupils darting to search the clouds.

Energy poured from him, taking shape as an internal desire to bring his voices back and continue the scene. He needed to know!

Who were they talking about?

Who-?

"-ow much longer- think he can last? It's only been a few days."

Back, they were back. But the desperation for their return had sapped him of his strength and he could feel that miserable exhaustion again. He just had to hear the remainder of this conversation, then he would be satisfied for the time being.

Just let him finish it.

"I don't know," Amaimon, though his and the second voice's outlines didn't appear, back to only their voices reaching him, and even those were faint, "- never told me how long it took."

Without the context, it was difficult to say what or who they spoke of. He hung onto every word anyway.

"It sounds like he told you about as much as me, huh," the second voice said, somber, and he could imagine the expression that would be on his face.

This third person they spoke of, possibly. Someone they both had history with and who's mention was enough to derail other moods.

"Yes." Amaimon sounded defeated in his admission, "No one knows -'s mind."

So the person they spoke of was still alive but not with them, not that he could guess why.

Sharp laughter out of the second voice broke him from organizing his information threads and he gave a slow blink as he tried to understand where the humor came from.

"Well, that'll be a good lesson for him when we save him, then, won't it." Save him! The web tightened further, he knelt on the cusp of tying it all together. Their journey together shared a purpose, it wasn't just the execution hanging over the second voice's head that drove them on.

He was so close to understanding, if not himself, then at least his two voices. But his breaths had started to come slower, eyelids shuttering, though he fought to keep them open a moment longer.

"Next time he wants to hold back important stuff we'll remind him he literally almost died the last time he did it."

Confidence, the horror that had tainted the second voice gone to be replaced by hope. How very…human of him.

His ears barely picked up the next words.

"-ink I'm good to sleep now, if it's safe here."

Water muffled his senses and his mind sunk under, but he knew the second voice had nothing to fear, not with Amaimon keeping guard.

"-on't let me drown, okay Amaimon?"

Don't let me drown.

Soft sighing drew him from his sleep an uncounted time later. Something about that sigh pricked his attention. It sounded…

Eyes opened just as an outline etched its impression in the clouds.

Amaimon, and he looked strangely dazed where he lay on a raised earthen slab in the hot spring. His reptilian tail swayed overhead in a way that suggested arousal.

But he hadn't been the one to sigh so where…?

Another outline emerged. He knew what had Amaimon looking like that now.

The second voice stretched on his side, tail moving in enticing coils over the leg he'd trapped with it in his sleep.

And he-

Hmm.

That vulnerable neck bared, tilted onto the surface of whatever he lay on as droplets of water traced their way over the pulse he could barely make out there.

What a wonderful sight to wake to.

Now the only question was what Amaimon would do with the gift he'd been presented.

Hitched breath just as the second voice opened his eyes, fully waking and face going a brilliant red as he must have become aware of his actions. Good, now Amaimon would likely-

"Are you awake now? Why did you stop?" No! He shouted internally, not that it would do any good, being unable to reach them with his words, but Amaimon wouldn't get anywhere if he gave the second voice an opening like that.

As expected, the second voice panicked like he'd done in the last scene and fled to the deeper waters again

"Did you want help?" Oh, Amaimon. He could cry. Was he a demon or not?

What was he waiting for? A written invitation?

"No! No, I'm ok, I'm good." See? That was what happened. The urge to shake both of his voices was strong and also pointless when he couldn't do anything to change things, trapped as he was.

The situation was still salvageable. It wasn't as if the two were being chased, and if they could afford to sleep comfortably wherever they were, then they had more than enough time to continue where they'd left off.

By Amaimon's pout and the way the muscles of his body went deceptively lax, he had picked up on that thought too. Any moment now and he would get things back on track. The second voice saw, tensing as he darted his gaze around. That beautiful tail of his wound in nervous patterns in the water and he shifted in the sand.

Then he jerked as if shocked, falling backwards with a yelp and a crack of his skull to a rock when he landed.

He closed his eyes, breath leaving his nose in a long exhale, already knowing he wasn't going to get what he wanted. This newest torment was possibly the most painful yet.

"Didn't I teach you how to fall right? Do you need more lessons?" Yes! Hands on training would surely be enough to get things moving along.

"No- yes, I want more fighting lessons, I just woke up and panicked," the second voice said. He was going to tear his hair out and scream, if only in his head. What was holding the two of them back? The signals between them couldn't be clearer if they were strung together in glowing lights.

Conversation moving onto food settled it, there would be no play. Even as Amaimon rose and stepped from the water in a way that would have had him pulling him to the nearest horizontal surface- preferably a bed- if he'd been with them, the second voice persisted with his infuriating avoidance.

What could this scene reveal to him that he'd woken to see it? Because so far all it had done was shown him his two voices would be the death of him if they kept at it the way they were.

It could be that there was no rhyme or reason to his waking, that it was random and worked on his own energy levels. But there also existed the chance that he woke to each scene of his two voices' lives to gather some bit of information that could help him remember himself and his name.

Until he knew for certain, he would have to act as if the latter were the case and stay vigilant for any clues.

Finding out the second voice was something of a talented chef certainly added nuance to his character, and, if Amaimon's sudden excitement was anything to go by, he would be getting the second voice to make him a cake once he escaped.

More hints to another person peppered their conversation. Possibly the same one they were trying to save, as they both knew the individual they spoke of, but there was nothing to say that they didn't have more shared acquaintances.

"It was a Christmas cake, it made - happy."

Something in the way Amaimon said that, the way his features changed, made him seem wistful.

A shift occurred in the tone of their conversation, sobering after the previous humor.

"Hey," the second voice sounded hesitant, "Did you ever read the fairytale 'Sleeping Beauty' before?"

That was an odd thing to bring up. Could the second voice be a nephilim? His tail suggested otherwise but he couldn't see how else he would have such a grasp of humanity and know so little about demons. There was also that Amaimon didn't seem the type to bother with a nephilim, not as strong as he was.

"Is that a human story?" Case in point, Amaimon displayed the typical lack of knowledge of humans that most demons had, even when they'd lived among them for centuries.

And he still didn't know why the second voice had brought up a human fairytale.

"It's just kinda funny, what we're doing and what's up with him." Who? Another clue into the purpose of their journey. He focused on the words, pushing the many possibilities aside in case he missed something vital. This could lead to the answer he craved.

I guess all that doesn't mean anything, but - being cursed to sleep reminded me about it."

Could they…

Were they talking about him? He certainly slept enough in this prison, but he still woke, even if he couldn't move. He also didn't know if he even had a connection to his two voices, hadn't had a memory of interacting with them yet. And neither had spoken of Abduxuel, at least, not since he'd remembered his name, so there was nothing to say that they had a connection through that avenue, either.

"How did the story end?" How strange a being Amaimon was. He'd never seen such innate curiosity from another demon, though he couldn't say how he knew that, his memory refusing to bring up specifics.

Not that the second voice's answer was going to bring Amaimon any clarity, not with the little understanding of humans he had. "She gets saved with true love's kiss, it breaks the curse, she wakes up, and they live happily ever after."

Amaimon had taken up rubbing his thumb raw in a groove of whatever he rested on in an odd habit. What was even odder was the contemplation he seemed to be giving the simple story. The human ability to create was endlessly fascinating but not something Amaimon gave the impression of being interested in.

Love, less so. The concept was laughable, not even as real as the fairytales humans came up with.

"That won't work for -." That Amaimon had suspected he'd find a solution to whatever problem they had in a human story was baffling, but it could have been desperation making him seek out any available option. He knew something of desperation.

The second voice didn't seem to think the story held the answer they needed either, speaking as his lack of knowledge about demons made itself apparent again. "Well, yeah, I didn't think it would. But why not?"

"Demons don't love, it's a vague human concept we don't understand." Just so, but something about how Amaimon said it made it sound as if the answer was rote, that he repeated someone else's words and not his own thoughts.

"Don't love?" Yet more hints that the second voice was some kind of nephilim, one important enough to warrant an execution on his head. The contradictions just kept adding up.

"- always laughs at human love, he thinks it's funny." Love was a funny concept, he felt humor escape him as a soft huff. "I don't get it. I don't get humans."

"Yeah, vague is probably a good word for it," the second voice said, a melancholy tone joining the shadow cast on his face when he dipped his chin, "You're just supposed to know it when you feel it."

Exactly the meaningless sentiment so many humans ascribed by. There wasn't a single concrete definition, no hard and fast law of the universe, for love that any could pin down in a satisfactory way.

His mind lingered there even as the second voice moved the topic. Although, hearing that Amaimon had gotten his fangs around the second voice's throat and a tongue to his pulse and still had yet to take things to the next level was mind-boggling.

They were hopeless, clearly. He rolled his eyes, watching them eat in companionable silence and craving food for the first time since he'd woken. Hunger didn't accompany the craving, but he remembered taste, and at this point any sensation that wasn't clouded or deadened by his prison would be welcomed.

Any sensation. When he escaped, he would drown himself in every pleasure he'd been denied in this hell. He would not sleep for a week, a month, a year, until he'd satisfied his mind and body and knew that he'd experienced the full range of senses available to a physical vessel.

And he would track down his two voices and demand an apology for the torment they'd subjected him to with their infuriating tiptoeing around each other.

Amaimon snapping to bring out what looked like books surprised him, not considering that he might enjoy those human things, though he liked their food well enough.

It looked like the second voice was just as confused, questioning Amaimon about their source.

"They're -'s, I borrowed them." Ah, that explained it. Again, someone they both knew, and who apparently enjoyed human things enough to collect them, but he couldn't say whether it was the same person they were attempting to save or another.

"He collects them," Amaimon chewed at a sucker he'd summoned, his confusion clear on his face and apparently looking to the second voice to provide an explanation. "I don't understand why he likes them- or any of the others. Humans don't make sense."

Well, that was half the fun of humans. What was even more humorous was how the teacher had become the student between his two voices.

The second voice took the book from Amaimon, making a go at trying to parse what was so confusing about humans, though he didn't think he would have much luck in explaining it to Amaimon.

Squeaking brought his attention to the second voice's face. Was he blushing? What could the contents of that book be to get such a reaction?

"You got this from -?" Hmm. By the strangled question, he'd say the contents were of the carnal sort. Perhaps Amaimon was trying to restart things after-all? The second voice did look lovely with his pupils dilated in those blue irises and red staining all the way to the tips of his pointed ears.

"Wh- what confused you about this one?"

"It's the same as every other story. The humans have a problem and then make it worse." The sigh that left his lungs was as long suffering as he could make it. Amaimon was hopeless. Another perfect opportunity passed by without a single attempt. "This human keeps letting the other one interfere with their courtship when they should just fight or kill the other to keep them away instead of wasting time."

He didn't know who was worse of his two voices, but he would decide when he got out and demanded their reasoning from them. Whoever had the weakest excuse would be punished without mercy for the suffering he was undergoing.

"Humans can't just go around killing each other when they get angry or we'd all be dead." The words from the second voice brought him from his spiraling thoughts that he realized were growing less coherent with rising exhaustion again. "Though I can't talk about the fighting because I got into tons growing up."

That was a curious response. "We" implied that the second voice considered himself human, but he also clearly identified as a demon. Nephilim looked more likely than ever. Really, the only way to be sure was to know whether he had a demonic heart or not. With the dangers pursuing them, the chances were good that he'd get his answer.

"It's not like we get a new vessel when we die. Once it's over, that's it."

An apt summation. His mind began to drift, the outlines of his voices became less defined.

"It's like," the image of the second voice faded in and out, only his blue eyes where they turned to him shone through, "It's like if - dies like this, he's not coming back, so it's important to save him."

At this point, the words flowed through his mind more than he comprehended them, lulling him even as he tried to refocus. This was important, he needed to know who they were talking about.

He needed...

"That's why humans do the strange things they do? Fear of death?" Amaimon had said that, his outline no longer visible.

"-don't want - to die, that's why I'm here."

Just a little longer. His eyes had closed without his say and he couldn't open them again.

"I owe him."

Amaimon spoke then about the pain of a degrading vessel, of no longer suffering it. Had he ever suffered something like that? Why did it seem familiar to him as more than theoretical?

A body that didn't degrade. A perfect vessel was- he could see why Amaimon might try to save the being who'd gifted it.

The second voice didn't seem to think so.

"-just because you don't show it the same way as I do doesn't mean you don't care."

He would have scoffed if he'd been able to. But…

Amaimon didn't deny it.

They'd faded completely, he couldn't hold out any longer.

His mind lingered on fairytales, on the humans who had crafted them, and his own existence.

Sleep took him again.

"Fire is greedy."

Hmm?

The sudden voice brought him out of his sleep.

"-, is like a forest fire, warm from a distance, but all-consuming when you get too close."

Amaimon? He opened his eyes and his voices scrawled onto the clouds above him to show them resting at what looked like another hot spring. He'd never been woken by them before, always he was awake before the ripples signified their appearance.

"- knew the chances of claiming you would be slim."

A claim attempt. He searched his memory for a previous scene that might have included one. They could have been talking about the voice from several scenes ago where the betrayal had occurred.

"She tried anyway, because that's her nature. To consume." It looked like the case. And it would explain the black rage, the threat, that the second voice spoke with when he'd told her not to touch him again.

His confusion over why he would feel such a sense of violation was right in line with his lack of understanding of claims, but he wondered how Amaimon would answer.

By the way the second voice appeared, hunched in on himself with his eyes shuttered and chin tucked to his knees, he'd say this was the first time he'd ever encountered a claim attempt he didn't want.

"It was better, once I used what you taught me and got out of there- back by you. But if she'd tried to come closer, I think I would have attacked her. I think I would have tried to kill her."

What?

Gold eyes widened, shaken to the core, and mirroring his own shock that struck through his chest. The second voice was still oblivious. Did he know what he'd just admitted? Did he understand at all?

And how would Amaimon take it? The revelation had come so completely unexpected, there was no way to possibly prepare for it, and yet the second voice kept speaking as if he hadn't just let Amaimon know that not all claims would be unwelcomed.

Amaimon opened his mouth and nothing came out while the ridiculous, unbelievable, impossible second voice finally noticed his silence.

"Yes," Amaimon said, sharp and shaking his head, though he could see he wouldn't be shaking the revealed information any time soon. "If a human tries to mimic a claim your instincts will rebel, not that they could even put a claim on something, they don't have the ability."

Oh, that poor demon. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry or both over the torment Amaimon was undergoing. Of course, it was at least half self-inflicted. He rolled his eyes as Amaimon soothed the second voice's fears about what sorts of physical contact would set off his instincts.

At this point he no longer held any pity for Amaimon. The second voice had all but thrown himself in his lap and demanded to be claimed. That they both still held back was a sign that he was being punished in his prison more than they suffered.

"I think I'm gonna sleep in the water again, Amaimon." The second voice's tired words drew him from his internal grumbling and he blinked as he began peeling himself out of his clothes. Not that he would ever complain about such a sight, not with the way that black-furred tail unwound in sensual coils before his eyes, but it seemed they were resting again.

So the scene, besides revealing fascinating details into the developing relationship between his two voices, hadn't given him anything he might use to discover his name or other relevant connections.

Still, when the second voice let out a quiet groan and sank into the water, that tail flicking through the bubbles teasing the fur, he wanted to groan right along with him. The same urge, he could see, from the glaze in Amaimon's eyes where he tracked the second voice.

"Hey, Amaimon, it doesn't always feel that awful, does it?" The second voice wasn't ready to sleep yet, it seemed. But, it was understandable, if he really didn't have any experience with something of that nature, to have a few questions.

It broke Amaimon from his determined contemplation of anywhere but the second voice, though he couldn't quite cover up that he was still affected by him, if the tongue darting over his lips meant anything. "You have one with your familiar, it's not the same when you accept the claim."

For some reason a soft smile came from the second voice where he lay with his cheek pressed to his crossed arms, "I didn't think - would have something like that, but I'm glad he did."

His words rocked Amaimon to the core for the second time that scene. Hitched breath, features like stone and claws digging furrows into the sand. But why? And somehow the expression from those blue eyes seemed knowing, he didn't understand the gentleness in them or why Amaimon's shock would garner such a response.

The answer was hidden in the identity of the person they referenced whose name he didn't know.

Yet again, the second voice shifted topics, "If one half dies, does it hurt whoever's left behind?" Oh. Yes, he could see how that would be a logical line of questioning. As was his realization when Amaimon confirmed his fears.

"It does hurt, then."

Yes. He didn't know how he knew that. But it was never a pleasant experience for a claim to fade, just something one learned to tolerate. And, compared to a degrading vessel, really, what was one more discomfort?

"Wait, if you were in Assiah, how did you know Abdux- er, Abduxuel died? I thought it was just him and - with the claims on each other?"

Abduxuel!

He'd said-

There it was! His heart jolted in his chest, beating in a rapid pattern and he was vaguely aware of Amaimon hissing to send the second voice scuttling back in the water with stuttered apologies.

This was the connection between his two voices and himself! There was some string tying them all together. They knew who he was, if not personally then at least by his claim with Abduxuel.

Who was Abduxuel to them? How did he relate to their current purpose? Would he see him next?

"It had nothing to do with a claim." Amaimon's snarled words forced his attention back to the scene, seeing the fear the second voice tried to cover up with bravado and a strong face.

"A king's death is not like any of the worms that exist in Gehenna or Assiah."

A death? A king's? Another one of those words he knew by definition but felt like he should know it by more than that, the information just out of reach and exceedingly frustrating every time it happened.

In his distraction, weariness overtook Amaimon's rage, something he didn't understand the source of or why Amaimon would feel it in the first place.

"These vessels are meaningless," he drove it home with a claw through his palm as the second voice gave an aborted flinch. "To truly die, our demonic hearts need to die."

The second voice rubbed a hand at his chest, making his eyes narrow as his mind raced through the possibilities. Could that movement mean he did in fact have a demonic heart? Was he more than just a nephilim? Or had it been a thoughtless motion brought about by the word 'heart' from Amaimon.

"It's never happened before Abduxuel." His thoughts screeched to a ragged halt at the sound of his other half's name out of Amaimon's mouth again. An internal shiver and short inhale through his nose started them up again.

All at once, the whipcord tension in Amaimon fell away, completely overtaken by exhaustion as he slumped where he sat. Those gold eyes stared straight at him, but his expression looked far away, lost in memories.

"You can't kill a concept, but, you can erase the personification representing one."

What was he implying?

What-

Dawning realization, and with it, dread welling up in his gut to burn against the back of his throat.

Of course. It was obvious, how had he not realized it sooner?

Hesitant words from the second voice, his blue gaze shadowed when it flicked to him, "And you- I remember you said people forgot him, right? Only you guys remember him?"

Abduxuel would not be saving him from his prison. His voices wouldn't be meeting up with him, wouldn't ever do more than speak his name.

He wouldn't ever feel the other half of a claim. His claim.

In the next instant, Amaimon confirmed his thoughts.

"When he died, we all felt it."

Fine.

Fine. That didn't change things. He still needed to escape, he still had only his two voices for clues into who he was and, now, as it seemed more likely with every passing scene, as his only way free.

There was more information to parse in this scene, more that Amaimon had revealed that he could use. His web had undergone a massive shift, a key player had just been taken out.

Without his notice, the scene had shifted in the clouds. He blinked, Amaimon looked more haggard, though it was hard to tell when the most he could see was faint, washed out colors and his outline where he sat.

It was his eyes. Bruises had formed there so dark even the faded quality of the image couldn't hide them.

Amaimon appeared deep in thought and the energy that surrounded him told a similar story, rippling in unsteady fissures as he hunched in on himself to glare in a baleful expression over the horizon line.

Though, if he was just going to sit there in silence, that was hardly going to make for an interesting scene. Seeing him idly pluck at a blade of grass in contemplation almost made him wonder if he should just start reviewing the previous scene for more connections when Amaimon summoned what looked like candy.

The pleased hum and delight in his eyes was charming, at least.

His energy spiked around his form just as his eyes widened and he collapsed.

What?

Features warped as a scream shattered the silence and Amaimon seized on the ground. His spine arched in a harsh contortion, claws extended to gouge the ground while his fangs bristled from a gaping mouth.

Before he could process it further, Amaimon slumped, gasping, panting where he lay and eyes sightless. His body twitched as if electrocuted until, with a sharp inhale, he jolted to his feet.

Jerking his head around like he searched for something didn't tell him what had happened either. But Amaimon snapping and vanishing to reappear somewhere else and bolting as if being chased made him push it aside to watch the scene unfold.

A wild light had entered those gold eyes. He ran in a panic, the energy in his vessel pushing until he thought it would burst and blood had begun to trickle from his nose. Was it because he was using too much, or was his vessel too degraded to take the force- a combination of both?

Time skipped, Amaimon had gained more streaks of red across his face, layering over the trails that had dried and flaked. His mouth gaped as he threw open a door and stumbled forward with closed eyes as if the light he stared at were too bright.

"Amaimon." The sudden voice made Amaimon freeze. Who? But, when he looked, all he saw was a searing light that stabbed straight through his retinas and blinded him when he tried to stare directly at the source.

Amaimon spoke a name he couldn't hear.

"- is further ahead," that patrician voice said. "Welcome home, Amaimon."

The mystery of the powerful being who radiated energy to eclipse even Amaimon's aspect and who spoke to him with such familiarity would have to join the rest of the information he needed to consider later.

Because right then, Amaimon raced from the room to whoever or whatever the source of his panic was.

Energy flared in erratic spikes as Amaimon entered another room and bared his fangs in a challenging snarl. "Why do you look like him?"

Him?

But, a survey of the space before Amaimon revealed only faint shadows that barely defined themselves as shattered objects and destroyed furniture. Who was he talking to and what had he seen that put that fear in his eyes.

The darkness that shrouded a section of the clouds parted. Amaimon sucked in a harsh breath that he wished he could echo.

Without knowing how, he could identify what had called Amaimon to this room. What had put that expression on his face.

Abduxuel.

The faint outline suggested the body on the floor at Amaimon's feet was just that, a shell, a desiccated husk that used to house the soul of his other half. Meaningless. There wasn't anything left to mark that the concept of space had ever occupied that corpse.

Amaimon snapped his gaze back up from the body. From Abduxuel. Fury warped his features. "He's inside you! I can sense his aspect- why is he inside you?"

Who was he speaking to? Had they been the ones to kill Abduxuel? Destroy his heart? If his fangs were able to extend in his mouth, they would be. He wanted to growl a low threat to whatever had taken his other half, and whoever had put that lost expression on Amaimon's face.

Instead, he could only do as he had the entire time since he'd woken, sit and watch, even while Amaimon quivered with barely contained condemnation for whoever else was in the room with him.

But what was the point? Clearly Amaimon wouldn't be getting the answers he wanted and, by the way he'd been so easily battered to the ground, he wouldn't be forcing the answers out.

More importantly...

He wouldn't be bringing Abduxuel back. Once a demonic heart had been destroyed, that was it. It was stupid to be staring at the other being in the room as if whatever he did would matter as anything other than useless revenge or lashing out like a petulant child.

If Amaimon was just going to lay there, was just going to stare with hollow, miserable, stupefaction, then this scene had finished with its purpose to him and he didn't know why he was even still watching.

Gold eyes widened and the pupils slivered in a slackened, bloodstained face.

That glow in his irises was the last he saw as Amaimon's outline faded from sight.

Fine.

That was fine.

He needed to think about what he'd just seen, what had been revealed.

And what it meant that Abduxuel had died.

Only the silence of his prison met his turbulent thoughts.

---

His words trickled to a stop in the muffled air of the steam-filled ravine.

Rin had gone quiet, solemn now that he'd revealed that bit of the past to him, that part of their history.

With Rin looking at him like a kicked dog from the water, the rest of his ire bled away.

There wasn't a point getting angry at him when he didn't know what fault lines he stepped on in the first place. He let an exasperated breath huff from his nose and slouched back the stone he sat on, wondering if Rin would sleep now.

When Rin saw that he had settled, he slowly uncurled from his tensed ball he'd been in at the edge of the pool.

"I didn't realize," came the soft reply from Rin, gaze flicking to Samael's body where it lay apart from the two of them and chewing at his bottom lip like he would say more.

Something flickered on the edge of Amaimon's senses.

Danger.

Where? He shifted, gaze sharpening.

Light reflected off iridescent scales, impossible to see until it was too late.

A serpent lashed out at Rin near the water's edge.

Another, at Samael.

Amaimon froze, indecisive, heart stuttering in his chest and eyes widening.

Rin.

He chose.

Throwing himself towards the striking serpent, Amaimon caught it, the fangs carrying deadly venom a scant in from vulnerable flesh.

"Agh!"

Rin screamed.

Crushing the writhing demon in his hand didn't change that the other had struck its target.

Jerking his body around revealed Rin writhing on the ground, unable to stop his body's pained thrashing and too close to drowning.

The second demon made to strike again.

This time, Amaimon didn't give it the chance, getting his claws around its skull and turning it to slime between his claws.

His breaths came out in harsh pants, tossing the corpses of the demons to the ground and reaching for Rin.

Water soaked his clothes as he hauled Rin from the pool, ignoring the way he scored hits to him with his wild movements and casting around for some action he could take.

Without the earlier hesitation, he set Rin down again, tearing his shirt open to reveal the twin holes where he'd been bit. Already they blackened, rotting from within faster than Rin could heal.

Human. Rin was half-human, and, more than that, Rin was sealed.

Another cry escaped Rin's mouth, he gagged in his agony, tail whipping against the sand and Amaimon in glancing blows as he tried to fight off the poison in his veins.

Could he? Was a nephilim of Father strong enough to survive a bite from one of the serpents that inhabited Lucifer's domain?

Whimpers fell from Rin's lips, tears traced over his flushed face from unseeing eyes, pupils blown in them as he scrabbled at the ground.

What should he do?

What could he do? His claws twitched at his sides, damp sand digging into his knees where he knelt over Rin's trembling form, the contorted movements from earlier giving way to exhausted panting.

Was he overcoming the venom? Amaimon raked his frantic gaze over Rin and saw that no, he wasn't. The black from the initial punctures spread in a branching wave with every passing second.

They didn't have time! Rin didn't have time.

If Rin died here, then what?

His mind tried to throw up countless scenarios and possibilities and each time they broke apart like so much sand between his claws. A white noise crowded his thoughts, a heated throb began in his head that made it impossible to think past.

A tail wound itself around his wrist and he hissed, jolting at the sudden touch, only to see hazy blue eyes staring up at him from beneath half-closed lids. Rin moaned, a rasping, weak sound as his tail tightened further before it slackened in shivering coils.

Rin was dying. Cold sweat broke out on his skin, putting a sheen over the gray pallor that had started to replace the healthy peach tone.

Forcing himself to look from Rin as if he could find some answer in the ravine sent frustration curdling in his gut. Samael's body seemed to mock him with its stillness, as if condemning him for failing the both of them with his hesitation. To the side and adding further salt to his wounds, were Rin's clothes where he'd left them before he'd gone into the water.

His clothes, and Kurikara.

Amaimon sucked in a short breath, freezing where he kneeled.

Soft whimpering drew his shaky gaze back to Rin, seeing he'd closed his eyes. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his skin, his head lolling to the side as he teetered on the final edge of consciousness.

The idea that had sparked in his mind solidified. Amaimon snapped and closed his fingers around the lacquered wood of the Koma sword.

He held Rin's heart in his hands, remembering the last time he'd done so, the last time he'd threatened to break it out of boredom. Brushing a pass of his thumb to the surface, Amaimon stared into the wavy reflection in the deep blue color, the same shade as Rin's eyes.

The black veins from the venom crept closer to Rin's chest, another whimper left his mouth.

Amaimon didn't have time to think about the past. He unsheathed the blade, blue flames flickering into existence.

The metal rapidly warmed his skin where he placed it on his palm.

Then he broke it.

---

Notes:

Mephisto, sitting in a room surrounded by flames: This Is Fine :) :) :)