Chapter 19

Compared to the dank and stale air of the sewers and Hell, the nightly surface wind was life to Matthew's lungs. He took such a heavy inhale, his chest ached from the capacity of fresh air. "Ah, that feels so nice!"

Ivan, however, grumbled as he gave the sewer gate a light kick, "It is cold." The street rumbled as a vehicle approached. He bristled, and clumsily shot forward with the weight on his back without replacing the manhole cover. They reached the curb of the sidewalk as a screech of tires grinded against the asphalt, screeching to a stop with a loud pop. He spun around to face the calamity; the rear end of the van leaned toward the sky as a tire dipped into the sewer opening.

The front door opened and the driver's head popped over the roof of the vehicle. "What the Hell?!"

Matthew hissed in his friend's ear, "Run, Ivan!"

"But-"

"Hey," the driver started to come around his trapped van, "did you just come up from there?"

"Okay," Ivan declared, "I am running," and took off shambling in the opposite direction of the crime scene. The driver shouted for them to stop, but they obviously would not listen, and his words became only echoes in the nightly landscape. "This not good. That ruined sewer system is the closest one to the spot where I drop down into Hell. I hope they do not seal it."

"We'll have to wait and see," Matthew murmured, and adjusted his arms' grip around Ivan's shoulders. "Can you sense any angels around?"

"Yes, but the trail is faint. I think that Arthur made a few rounds back and forth around this area."

"You think he was looking for us?"

"It is a possibility," Ivan gave Matthew's leg that did not have an injury a squeeze, "but there are more pressing matters at the moment." He grew quiet, saving his breath to pant as he hurried down the street. Not only was he carrying Matthew, Matthew was carrying his clothing bag on his own back.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at the completely dark Bonnefoy house. "Maybe Alfred's not home. That would save me a headache when we get inside."

The front door squawked with unnecessary noise as Ivan pushed it open, and he peered into the empty hall. He took a few deep inhales, one, to catch his breath, and two, to scent if any other (possibly otherworldly) occupants lurked inside. "I do not smell anything besides faint trails."

"Good, now, let's get some ice on my ankle, please," Matthew gave Ivan's chest a few urging pats. "There is a light switch right next to the doorway."

Ivan groped the wall, and the hall filled with intense light. He cringed, squinting at the ceiling light before trudging into the kitchen. He set Matthew on one of the island stools, and both sighed with relief. "Where is this ice?"

"It's in the freezer," Matthew pointed to the appliance, and with a heave, he plopped his bag onto the granite countertop. "It's a rectangular blue box thingy."

"Blue box thingy," Ivan echoed, hissing when the clouds of cold swelled into the kitchen from the open freezer.

"Can you wrap it in a dish towel? Sorry for asking for so much. I would have gotten it myself if I didn't sprain my ankle."

"You think you ask for much." Ivan murmured aloud, and settled into the adjacent stool, dwarfing its height. He reached down and grabbed Matthew's leg, balancing it on his own knee, and pressed the compress to his foot. "Is this good?"

"Ooh! That's cold. Yeah, it's good," Matthew closed his eyes and leaned against the counter with a happy sigh. "You know, I can't believe we left that guy's van stuck in that hole. Did you see his face?" He giggled, "I could only imagine what he would have done if he came by a few seconds beforehand, when you lifted yourself out of there."

Ivan only replied with a short grunt, and switched hands to hold the ice pack.

Matthew's eyes cracked open. "Hey," he rapped his palm against the counter, earning attention. "Are you all right? You're...quieter than usual." He whispered when his friend dropped his gaze to the ice pack, "Please tell me."

"I wanted to do the fun things, Matthew, like fly through the wind tunnel of endless wails, or eat the bulbs of the eternal flowers, or even visit the nearby market, but all that potential and planning is suddenly gone."

Matthew shifted around on the wooden stool, grumbling, "I guess I should have not jumped out of that tree, huh?" When Ivan's eyebrows mashed together, he playfully rolled his eyes. "We'll just have to do those things when my foot gets better."

Ivan glanced up, surprised, and unknowingly lifted the ice from his ankle. "You...you would like that?"

"I would have not said it if I didn't." Matthew pointed at his foot. "Could you put that back on?"

Ivan placed the wrap back as a dusting of pink decorated his uplifted cheeks. "We need to take good care of this ankle, so we can return home as soon as possible."

Matthew agreed with a nod. "Are you close to your sisters, Ivan?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"Just curious."

After a toss between a few sour and sad faces, "We...we have been rekindling our family relationship after they...after a long period of time when we were all falling apart. We had been distant from each other since," his gaze lifted, but did not meet Matthew's eyes, "the death of our parents. Living in the same house has its bad moments, but the company is pleasant...at times."

"I wonder what it's like having a sister, let alone two..."

"Terrifying," Ivan said, earning a shared giggle. "Did they...did my sisters talk of anything interesting to you?"

"Oh, Natalia threatened to castrate me," Matthew shrugged, as if it were a common occurrence. His face warmed as the many things that he mentally shoved into a dark hole crept out again. "Irunya likes doting on many things, doesn't she?"

"Most definitely." Ivan rubbed his hand on his chest, trying to return feelings from the ice pack. "What did she talk about?"

Matthew wedged his face between his arms stretched across the counter. "Stupid stuff."

"Really? Usually Irunya speaks of sweet things - nothing I would consider stupid. Annoying, maybe. Foolish, no."

That conversation died quickly. Matthew fiddled with Ivan's thick scarf, but jolted as he realized it was still around his own neck. "Oh, I guess you should have this back, huh?" Ivan simply shrugged, so he peeled the cloth from himself, and grabbed both ends of the near mile long thing to sling it over his head. Their eyes locked. He froze. I can't keep this friendly façade up.

"Matthew? You look scared. Is there something on my face?"

"Uh...no. No." Matthew gave the scarf a hard toss over its owner's shoulder and sat back on his own stool with a more heavy sigh.

"Matthew?"

"I'm just thinking."

"Ah, but you are always thinking!"

"Unfortunately, yeah."

A little laugh, but Ivan cut off with a grunt. His head whipped side-to-side, and a great shudder took a hold of him before a pool of darkness emerged from his body. "Ah, lovely."

"Whoa!"

"What? I was getting used to having it off."

"It's all right!" Matthew smiled at shadows dancing on the floor. "Yeah, it's all right."

A clawed finger tapped his nose. "I would hope so!"

"Ugh, shut up."

Ivan's touch dropped to the battle between Matthew's wringing hands, breaking it apart so their fingers could eagerly greet one another.

They both took a breath at the same time. Matthew almost jerked away, but the warmth persuaded him to stay. "Oh, sorry. Were you going to say something?"

"No, Matthew. I want to hear what you have to say, first."

Matthew dropped his eyes to the floor again, feebly escaping the demon's steady gaze. "It's kind of silly, but...have you ever known someone, like, maybe not a family member, but a friend, and they've been around forever? Yet, if you think about it, you're not that close?"

The gentle thumb tracing the back of his hand stopped. Matthew picked up his head. Ivan stared, unwavering, and unsmiling. "Yes," he finally answered quietly. "What about?"

"Well, s-sometimes you can be around somebody for a very long time, and you won't know who they really are, but..." Still staring. Matthew's voice quickened as the grip on his hands slightly pressed down, "I mean, at the same time, it's kind of funny that-that, um, you get to know someone else for only a little while, but you'd never want to leave their side. Right?"

Ugh. Maybe Matthew should open up one of the island counter doors and crawl inside.

Whatever hard look on Ivan's face melted into a teeny giggle. "You are wearing my shoes, Matthew."

A sharp breath caught in Matthew's throat when their foreheads met, and he let his eyes slip close. "I'm not wearing any shoes."

Ivan's rumble of laughter deviated into a gentle murmur of his name again.

A chill of a less pleasant kind ran up Matthew's leg. "Could you grab that other dishrag that's hanging on the oven door? My foot is like, really cold."

Ivan snorted, nothing serious. "I thought cold was good!" He turned to stretch for the towel.

"Yeah, smartass," Matthew rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. "Oh, weren't you going to say something earli-"

A slender hand pressed over Matthew's mouth. His eyes widened, and he yelled in muffled shock, which made Ivan twist around to investigate. His mouth popped open, and he lunged forward, but an intense glow swallowed the room. He flinched, arms flailing as he slipped backwards, off his stool and onto the kitchen floor. He yanked himself to his feet, spitting malice and swiping a claw at the blinding light. Arthur and Matthew vanished.

Ivan groped the empty air, as if the angel became invisible. A lone, white feather drifted to the floor. He swooped to the tiles to raise a clawed hand, furiously blinking away the black dots dancing across his eyes, and snatched the little thing between two fingers. Keeping his pupils trained on the stiff, feathery tuffs, he leaped to his feet as a sharp exhale blew from his nostrils.

The front door slammed and bounced off of a wall as a dark whirlwind poured out of the house and into the night sky. A deep snarl began at his throat, and shot from his lips with enough repulsion to shove the moon out of his way.

~.~

~BOING!~

~.~

"Crap! Crap, crap, crap!"

Alfred hustled down the road, not liking winter or the night sky one bit. The angel left him alone, suddenly whisking away during their completely casual stroll as soon as he smelled something funny in the air. When Alfred sniffed, his nose hurt from the cold. This could not get any worse.

An ear-splitting scream shot above his head.

Things just became worse.

Alfred darted forward, not knowing what he had to run away from, but he knew he had to run. Loud whooshing flew pass his head, and he flinched, stumbling to the side and almost turfing onto the unforgiving ground.

An enormous cloud poured onto the grass, rising to an humanoid shape as Alfred backed away. He knew exactly what he had laid eyes on.

"Ahh! Demon!"

"Ahh! Human!"

"Huh?! Seriously, dude?"

"Yes," the demon seethed as he loomed over Alfred. "Not so funny on my end is it? Where is your brother?"

"Yeah, Ivan!" Alfred snorted at the lack of personal space, "Where is my brother?"

"That pretty little angel of yours stole him away from me! Where is he?!"

Alfred wiped his face, and made a couple of disturbed expressions, "What, you think we're playing hide-and-seek? He suddenly went pah! and disappeared without telling me anything! I want to know where he went, too!"

Ivan giggled passed his anger, and roughly brushed against Alfred's shoulders as he stalked in the direction of a line of trees. "That is a shame. You did not say goodbye to him before I rip his wings from his back and stuff them down his throat!"

"What?! Hey!" Alfred shouted, but the shadows ignored him as they swept into the air. "Nuh-uh! Not on my watch!" He sprinted after the sounds of wings furiously flapping away, threatening to leave him alone in the dark again.

~.~

~BOING!~

~.~

When a hand clamped over his mouth, bright glimpses of feathers and hundreds of eyes whirled Matthew into a cold and dark environment. He dropped to the ground, which could be nothing else besides grass as it tickled his face. He thrashed when winter wind bit through his clothes, and tried to push himself to blindly look around without his glasses.

Matthew patted the grass around himself in case they lied nearby, but stiffened as a flurry of footsteps closed on him. "Matthew, can you stand for me? Oh, no, look at your foot. Did that thing do this to you?"

As soon as an icy hand touched his swollen ankle, Matthew spat a curse between his teeth, a late warning for his glowing company as he threw out his arm. The light taking up most of his vision shrunk. He pushed himself to kneel, hollering against nightly wind as the glow circled him, "What do you want?! Why did you drag me all the way out here?"

The glowing figure stopped moving. "I am going to help you. Now, be still!"

No thanks! Matthew rolled to one side, and Arthur tackled the grass where he was a second ago. He spun around and kicked out his leg, but missed entirely from the quick spring the angel performed. He lunged away, as much as he could with his injury, and his palm nicked something thin and hard. Just when he curled his fingers around the plastic arm of his glasses, he lifted from the green blades.

Spittle flung from his mouth as that jarring sensation scrambled his insides. Not even flight; Arthur zipped around and managed to lug the not-so-tiny Matthew across the field and onto a pile of damp dirt without even flapping his wings. Matthew yelled in pain when his aching ankle collided with a rock.

Feet in the grass again, coming closer. Matthew shot out a hooked arm again, and this time, his fist connected with Arthur's cheek. Arthur thudded back onto the ground with a noisy grunt. Matthew could not help a short in-your-face laugh. He leaped on the opening to flee on his hands and knees while the angel sniveled in annoyance and pain.

"Enough of this! You are going into that pond, like it or not!"

Pond? What pond? "Fuck you!"

A loud whoosh darted over Matthew's head, and he flinched, a moment before a body landed in front of him. Matthew scrambled to get away, but his hands slipped on mud, almost face-planting into it. A large shock wave sent him rolling across the dirty grass, and he could not stop until he plunged into a shallow body of water.

Matthew thrashed and popped his head out of the frigid water with a shocked scream as it bit into his skin. No time to get cold, as the angel's weight collided into him again, sending them both to the murky floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to punch at what he hoped was Arthur's face. The hands pinning him pushed down harder.

An eruption of bubbles broke from Matthew's mouth. Matthew shook his head side to side, panic rising as his attacks bowed before the bite of ice water. Lack of oxygen latched its teeth into his lungs, but his captor ripped him from the floor.

"Purge! Purge the vileness within! Wash away this dark menace that has taken root inside his mind, inside his heart-!" Matthew coughed, throwing himself at Arthur's urgent and unnecessarily loud shouting, to claw at his face, to push him away, anything, but Arthur shoved him underwater again, completely unaffected by the cold. A garbled whine escaped his throat as he feebly wiggled beneath the angel. Yet the arms pressing against his own grew into steel bars as the frigid pond siphoned his remaining fight, claiming his life prematurely as it began.

Matthew's eyes opened against the murky water as soft light washed over the nightly darkness. His arms subsided to the pond's floor, unable to move anymore as he stared at the glowing. A powerful jolt coursed through his body, all the way to his fingers and toes. Warm. Then, a lull settled in the old home of breath in his chest. Matthew watched the blur for a seemingly long moment.

Well, that sure was a fun way to die.

Something lifted his face out of the water, guiding him against something cold but alive, a short moment before something whooped his back. Matthew spewed out anything he had to offer. A hand crept to his head and gently patted his soaked hair while a low voice murmured something that was supposed to be soothing. He opened his eyes, useless as light and dark argued before his face.

Matthew weakly furrowed his eyebrows together as he realized he was against another, smaller body as it let out a long sigh. "Shhh...you are all right."

"Why...why wouldn't I...?" Hands grabbed his forearms, much more gently this time, and guided him to the pond's edge. The water's glow followed, escaping into his pores, and he took a shuddering gasp. The cold breeze turning his cheeks into slabs of ice lessened to a mere tickle, and his captor tugged on his arms again. He set both feet on the pond floor, breath catching when his ankle had no pain to offer.

"How did..." Matthew blinked water out of his eyes, but they began to sting with threatening tears. "Oh, I'm dead, aren't I?" He croaked, "That fucking sucks."

"Goodness, no! Usually this sort of stuff goes much more smoother, but things love not working that way, do they? Come on, now, Matthew. Out of the water."

Arthur. Matthew's foot caught on a rock at the water's edge, and he tripped forward. The angel braced against him and grunted at his weight. "Ugh!" Matthew tried shoving away, but his arms were noodles, and he wound up collapsing onto the grass. The wet, slimy, and cold grass. He coughed out whatever lingered in his chest, and pushed himself to his hands and knees.

"Please...let me go home already."

Feet swished in the grass, not granting his wish. Matthew turned his head, shooting a glare at the white figure approaching, but flinched as his glasses slid over his face. He gawked at the sight of an uncloaked Arthur; the soft glow that his skin emitted was now a steady envelope of light, a sun in the middle of the dark, as large white sweeps sloped behind him. Warmth pricked Matthew's insides.

Oh, Arthur. This is what Alfred sees.

Matthew wondered if the cold stares and frigid personality were part of the cloaked persona, to drive any suspicion of coming from unhuman birth.

"Pardon my earlier lack of manners. I will explain, but first, it would be wise to get out of this wind...preferably before you become an ice-lolly."

Perhaps it was just his normal personality.

It was unnatural to glare into the angel's green eyes with newfound resentment, but Matthew felt like he had every right to demand, "Why were you trying to drown me?!"

Hardly fazed, Arthur asked, "Drown you, Matthew?"

Suddenly, that forming bruise on the angel's cheek looked very attractive, and he had to inwardly admit after that whole ordeal, he felt bright and new again. "Yeah, that's what I said! You have no business dragging me from my home and dunking me into a pond in the middle of winter!"

"No business?!" This truly offended Arthur, shown in his palm smacking to his chest, "You were housing a demon under your roof! It is every bit my business to take care of the problem!"

"There wasn't a problem! I let him stay there on my own."

"So you may think." The angel crept closer with his wings stretching from his back, similar to an owl when threatened, "I am not surprised that you do not realize that you're under demonic possession."

"Pfft, 'demonic possession?' Sure."

"Do not get lippy with me, boy. It looks like we are going to have ourselves another dunk in the pond, and again and again, until you're completely purged of the sin that clouds your judgment!"

"Like Hell you are!" Matthew shot forward at the same time Arthur did. They collided, heads smacking against one another, but Matthew's greater weight forced his captor back into the grass. Flailing arms, wreathing legs, and ugly (and honestly outdated from Arthur's end) curses tangled until a new set of feet stomped over and ripped Matthew away.

Matthew landed on his rear end with a furious yell, about to lunge again with murderous intent until he heard none other than his brother's voice demanding, "Dude! Why were you trying to strangle Arthur?!"

"He was trying to drown me!"

"Dude, why were you trying to drown Mattie?!"

Arthur spat, "I was not! If I were trying to drown him, the little fool would be dead by now! I am surprised he is still alive at the moment, since he has one of the worse cases of demonic possession I ever seen in my life!"

Matthew's glasses flung off his face during the angel's defensive smacking, so all he saw was an ethereal glow leap forward again, but his brother's shape was there to stop him. "I am not possessed by any demon! Why do you keep saying that?! If I was possessed, do you think he would have taken me back home when I asked him to?"

"This is what exactly what I mean! It does not even cross your mind to consider getting help! Alfred, help me get him back into the water."

Matthew promptly scooted backwards, but before his brother moved in any direction, a long screech echoed across the field. Alfred scrambled to his feet, craning his face to the sky. "I think we have other things to worry about!"