Chas's mother was shocked.
When Chas got home that night, as opposed to setting off the smoke alarm or throwing another teenage fit, he headed straight to his closet and pulled out a box of books. She watched in shock as he dropped the box on his bed and sifted through it, pulling out a few books and settling down to read them.
"What are you doin', darling?" She asked, leaning on the doorframe. She studied the cover of the book from afar; to her surprise, it appeared to be a Catholic guide to the rites of exorcism.
Chas didn't look up from his book. "Readin'."
For a moment, Audrey could slip back in time. She could imagine that it was seven months ago, before the incident, before their family had shattered. It hadn't been since then that she'd found her son so engrossed in a book, not a phone or cigarette in sight.
She smiled, and headed for the kitchen. She would make grilled cheese tonight, one of Chas's favorites. Then maybe, just maybe, she could see that childish grin once again.
She would need to make him happy, because what she was going to tell him tonight would likely make things worse than ever.
Things certainly didn't all become well all at once. It still took Audrey fifteen minutes to convince Chas to leave his room and eat with her. They sat down in the living room, with Wheel of Fortune on low volume; Audrey never missed Wednesday night Wheel of Fortune.
"Chas…we need to talk about something," Audrey said, and Chas immediately recognized her tone. It was that 'I know you're going to hate this but I'm going to tell you anyway' tone.
"Yeah…?"
"You know Nicholas, right?"
Chas nodded. "That geeky computer nerd that you work with."
Audrey cleared her throat. "You know I've been dating him the past couple weeks…"
"Yeah, I prefer to forget that part."
Audrey hesitated, setting her plate aside. "Well…I've been discussing some of these things that have been happening with him, and he and I have come up with something that might help."
Chas looked downright suspicious now. "We don't need help. Especially not from a guy with a Mickey Mouse screensaver and a coin collection."
"Just hear me out, Chas," Audrey said, leaning forward. "He thinks that what you need is a male role model. A person to be there for you when I can't. To do guy things, and such…"
Chas already didn't like where this was going. He set his plate aside, not wanting to have ammunition to throw at her head, should this go where he thought it might.
"He just wants the best for you, Chas. His apartment just raised the rent, he was going to have trouble paying it, and it just so happens we have an extra bedroom…"
Chas's face had already paled by about ten shades. "No. No, Mom, no. You can't do this."
"I just offered him a place to stay till he finds a new apartment. It'll be good for both-"
"No!" Chas shrieked, standing up. "You're trying to replace him already, aren't you! It's not like losing a dog, Mom, you can't just pick a new one off the street!"
Audrey was already crying now. "That's not what I was trying to-"
"Like hell you weren't! I'll bet you never loved him anyway, that's why you dragged him out that night!"
"You know I didn't mean for any of that to happen!"
"If you hadn't have been all fucking needy, he wouldn't have had to go with you in the first place! I hate you!" Chas yelled through tears, and then he stormed back to his room, slamming the door hard behind him. He dropped down on his bed, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
"Hey, Kramer!"
Chas recognized Brian's voice immediately, and for once he didn't even try to pretend he was happy to hear it. He kept walking; he wasn't in the mood for dealing with these guys right now. He wasn't in the mood for dealing with anyone right now.
"Heard you got caught," Brian said, catching up with him, Tony on his heels. Chas sighed.
"Yeah. We heard he's makin' you scrub the walls," Tony said, grinning maniacally. "Find the kiddie porn yet?"
Chas snorted. "Believe me, Tony, you'll be the first to know when I find it."
"How's come he didn't murder you or somethin'? Did he just rape you instead?" Brian asked, and Chas rolled his eyes.
"Don't put your sick fantasies on him," he taunted, and Tony cracked up.
"So how's in-school?"
"Simply titillating, Tony…"
Tony looked at Brian. "Hehehe…dude, he said titillating."
Chas felt like beating his head on a desk, and for once he was ecstatic to get to the assigned classroom for in-school. The guys who he'd been working so hard to impress suddenly seemed so…juvenile.
He waved the guys off and walked inside the classroom, for once not giving the aide an evil glare. He was too tired, and his mind wasn't quite in 'school' mode; he was still reeling from the news that his mother had given him the night before. He propped his chin on his hand and closed his eyes, going over the dozens of questions that had formed in his mind since last night, both questions that he wished he'd asked his mother and questions that he wanted to ask John that evening.
"How come you don't need a sanction from the Archdiocese to do your exorcisms?"
John looked up from the papers on his table as Chas spoke, and he took a long drag off his cigarette.
"I'm freelance."
"But I read that exorcisms that aren't sanctioned tend not to work as well."
John chuckled. "You read too much, kid, if you're judging the quality of my work by a Catholic guide. What are you doin' reading that shit, anyway? You're an irresponsible teenager, not a monk."
"It's interesting," Chas insisted, his scrubbing now distracted and gentler. The work actually seemed to be a good thing now, distracting him from thoughts that only spiraled him into depression. "How come you aren't sanctioned as a priest and you can run around doing exorcisms anyway?"
"I'm just that special, kid."
"I've told you a dozen times, don't call me kid. I'm not a kid. I'm seventeen."
"You're a kid."
Chas sighed and returned to scrubbing, occasionally sneaking glances up at John. For some reason the man was mesmerizing, the way he smoked, the way he talked, the way he drank…
Whoa, Chas, you're gettin' kinda creepy here.
But still, I'd rather him move in than Nicholas the super-nerd.
The phone rang, and John picked it up, having a short conversation and then hanging up. He stood up and grabbed his jacket.
"I'm goin' to run a few errands. Stay-"
"Out of your shit, I know," Chas finished for him, and John chuckled and was out the door.
Yesterday Chas had been well behaved when John told him to stay out of his shit, mainly because he was afraid the guy would materialize out of nowhere and catch him again. But now that he'd been doing some reading, and spent some time with John, the man didn't seem so intimidating anymore. Well, still intimidating, but not shoot-you-in-the-head-on-sight kind of intimidating.
So did Chas stay out of his shit this time?
Damn right he didn't.
He waited a few minutes and then got up from the floor, drying off his hands and giving his knees a break. He went to the bedroom, where a large cabinet stood to one side. He tried the handle, but of course, it was locked.
That hadn't stopped him before. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bobby pin, maneuvering it in the lock till he slipped all the pins inside open, and he pulled the doors to the cabinet open.
His eyes widened and he smiled as he looked at the contents. Old crosses, dozens of guns, hundreds of ampules of holy water, and…a book?
It was an old book with a plain brown tattered cover, and he reached in and tugged it out, sitting down on the edge of John's bed before opening it up. The pages looked like parchment, and everything inside the book was written in calligraphy style handwriting.
His brow furrowed- he didn't understand a word of it. The language it was written in was one he'd never seen before; in fact, it appeared to be two languages alternating.
He took the book over to his backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper and a mechanical pencil. He laid the sheet of paper over a page in the book, and then uncapped the mechanical pencil and took out a stick of graphite lead.
He pressed the paper down and set the graphite on it lengthwise, then proceeded to rub it onto the paper, leaving an impression of the words on the original paper. Once he finished the rubbing he folded it and stuck it in his backpack.
He suddenly got an overwhelming feeling of dread. It was a feeling so intense that it was almost entirely unfamiliar to him…he felt like he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder…nothing.
He tried to shake it off, picking up the book and taking it back to the cabinet. He'd use the impression he made to look it up later, figure it out when he had more time. He closed and locked the cabinet, and then got back to scrubbing.
It was almost two hours before John got back, and that whole time Chas couldn't shake that horrible feeling, that mental pressure. And when John got back, Chas knew he wasn't alone in the feeling.
John took one step in the door, stopped cold, dropped his bag, and looked at Chas hard.
"What did you do?"
Chas's eyebrows both rose up. "I didn't do anything."
"Bullshit," John growled, walking over and grabbing onto Chas's collar, literally lifting him off the floor and dropping him on the table. "What did you do? Don't you fuckin' lie to me, kid."
"I might have looked around a little…"
"Shit. Shit!" John snapped, walking over to his bag and grabbing stuff out of it. He dropped the stuff on the table, then opened an ampule of holy water and made the sign of the cross on Chas's forehead, beginning to mutter in Latin- and if Chas wasn't mistaken, there was some worry in the man's facial expression, along with the obvious anger and frustration.
"Um…John? What are you doing?" Chas asked, but he was only shushed. John grabbed a cross and shoved it into Chas's hands.
"Hold that, and don't fuckin' let go," he ordered.
"What's going on?"
"Don't ask, you don't want to know," John said, and then he took a smaller cross and pressed it against Chas's forehead.
Chas had never been in such horrible pain in his life. It was like John had started a drill through his skull, and he let out a shriek, trying to pull away. John grabbed onto the back of his head, holding tight, the cross burning into his forehead.
Chas kicked, fought, screamed, but nothing seemed to work. Soon all he could feel was John's touch, all he could hear was John's voice, then…darkness.
Chas woke up with a splitting headache.
He groaned and forced his eyes open, surprised to find no light coming through the windows- only darkness. It was night already. Not only that, but Chas was laying on John's bed.
"Mornin', sunshine," John said sarcastically as he entered the room. "I told your mother you got sick and passed out and that I'd call when you were feeling up to going home."
Chas blinked a few times, pushing himself up to a sitting position. "What happened?"
John sat on the edge of the bed, handing Chas a glass of water and two aspirin. "You opened the damn book, didn't you? You kids and your curiosity…it'll get you killed, you know."
Chas took the pills, chugged some water, and handed the glass back to John. "John…what happened?"
John smirked. "When you opened that book you opened a portal to Hell in the apartment. A portal through you. If I hadn't shown up, you would've gone into full-out possession in a few hours. Energy just needed time to build."
Chas blinked a few times again, this time in surprise and disbelief. John chuckled and pushed the dazed boy back down on the bed.
"Get some sleep. You've gotta be pretty damn tired after having portals to Hell opened and closed in you."
John was right. By the time he finished that sentence, Chas was already asleep again.