Chapter 21

The way back to the Bonnefoy house was a marathon, and the doorway was the finishing line, wide open for anybody to qualify as a 'winner,' or robber, depending on intentions.

An edge lined Matthew's words, "Did you leave the door open? I don't remember going out that way."

Ivan tucked his chin into his scarf. "I had other things on my mind. I'm sorry."

Matthew grinded his jaw, but just shrugged after everything. "Fine. It's going to take a little while to heat up then, since the warm air is most likely all gone."

In a small voice, "Okay."

Matthew cleared his throat, trying not to bring anymore despair onto his friend, "After we get you fixed up, I'll make some hot chocolate, okay?"

That cheeky grin came back, even at half-power, "After we get you fixed up. Your lips are blue! They are not supposed to be like that!"

Matthew stared at him for a moment to long. Ivan tipped his head, smiling despite all that happened. "Yeah. They're not."

They stumbled into the entrance hall, and Matthew twisted around to shut the door before pulling toward the stairs. "Come on."

"Where are you going? Hot chocolate is in the kitchen, yes?"

"It'll be warmer upstairs, and I...I just want to take my mind off of things."

"Yes, that is fine, Matthew."

Matthew clenched his teeth tight, fighting with the angry tingling sensation in his eyes. Once they shambled into the floral-infested bedroom, he guided the demon to his bed and told him to sit down. "I'm going to get a first aid kit. Just hang tight for a few moments, okay?"

"Hang tight?" Ivan echoed. "Can I hang loosely?" He shook his injured hand. "Wait, Matthew!"

Matthew turned from the doorway. "Yeah?"

"You need to remove those clothes."

"Uh, what?" Matthew's hand clamped onto his hoodie, which was still damp. "Oh, right, yeah." He trudged to his dresser and ripped open a drawer in agitation at himself. At the angel. At everything.

Ivan crooned again, "Wait, Matthew!"

"What? What!"

Ivan tipped his head, crinkling his eyes from that damned smile, "Can you wear those silky pajamas? I like those."

Matthew looked over his shoulder, staring at his friend in a moment of shock. "Ivan, that outfit is all the way downstairs in my bag I left in the kitchen."

"I can wait! Most of the pain is something only time will heal, anyway."

"You're the one that's hurt. Now, I'm going to take longer."

"That is fine! I will be right here!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, but his rudeness was trampled by his coy smile, which almost immediately sagged to guilt. He's hurt.

The thermostat waited in the downstairs hallway, and Matthew cranked it all the way to the other side. He stared at the number, realizing if he kept it like that, within an hour, the house would be over ninety degrees. Although that sounded wonderful at the moment, as he waddled in damp, heavy clothes, he twisted the knob back to a more appropriate temperature.

His backpack sat on the island countertop, and he pawed through the contents, catching the scent Ivan carried with him from his home. Matthew took a tentative sniff, then slowly wound his arms around the bag and buried his face into its material. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Matthew drug the bag off of the counter and lugged it and himself up the steps, one by one. A rough hiccup caught in his throat as he peeled off his clothes, and he turned away from the bathroom mirror so he would not have to look at the tears threatening to spill. He stuck the towel he used to scrub at his hair to his eyes, cursing himself, "Come on, get a grip. Ivan needs you more than this."

"Yes, that's right." Matthew drooped the towel on its hook beside the sink's counter, and snatched the medical kit from the shelves stacked up the wall next to the shower. He breezed out of the bathroom, flicking off the light, much more comfortable, if still cold to the touch.

Ivan sprawled on his bed, trying to pluck the shards of Arthur's wand from his palms with his teeth, but only managed to drool, push the splinters in his skin further, and bite himself. He yelped and growled at his misfortune, and jumped as Matthew shut the bedroom door. He picked up his head from his current gnawing regime, and steadily stared.

"What?"

"Look at you."

Matthew stopped by the bed. "W-what?"

Ivan grinned.

"Uh, yeah." Matthew settled beside Ivan's legs and flipped open the medical kit. "What hurts the most?

Ivan lifted his palm to his dirt smeared face to chew at the splinters again. "Everything? That little angel had a lot of power in him."

"Really?" Matthew motioned for Ivan to surrender his injured hand and his sarcasm was strong, "He must have given you a pretty hard time, then."

"Yes, he did!" Ivan did not even flinch when Matthew pulled out a particularly large black shard from his palm. "Perhaps you should try fighting someone that can spill holy light and these...strong booms from his hands."

"Oh, I already did, thanks. I managed to punch him in the face."

"You? That was you?! That...yes! Why though?"

Matthew was about to say he threw punches because he thought Arthur was trying to end him via drowning, but he did not need Ivan busting out the window to hunt him down again at the moment. "You weren't the only one that was mad that I was ripped away from my own home."

"What I would give to see that." Ivan turned his head away to grimace at the wall. "Arthur had no business with you. If he wanted to fight, then why did he not simply ask me? His kind acts like this is their world, as if everything in it lives to glorify them, and those who do not...well, you see what happens."

As the complaints turned into grumbles, Matthew tugged on another big splinter. He peeked at Ivan's face, but he did not make anymore noise besides his tail lashing back and forth on the bed. "Are you sure you want me to do this? I'm fine with it, but I don't know if you rather do it yourself..."

"No. It is easier and is less painful when you do it. Keep going."

"If you say so. Oops, I mean, yes, sir." When Ivan gave him an odd look, Matthew lightly laughed.

"You do not have to call me-"

"I know. It was a joke. I was pulling your leg." Matthew's shoulders slouched, and he dropped the tweezers back into the medical kit. "I was just...trying to...never mind. Sorry."

Ivan leaned forward so their foreheads would meet, and murmured, "Why are you apologizing?"

Matthew shrugged, pulling back a little, and grabbed a small sealed packet. "I was just being stupid."

"Stupid? Why would you say that? That is an ugly word. Would a stupid person get all these splinters out of my hand?"

"I...well, it wasn't that hard. I just have a lot on my mind, all right? Come on, I need your hand again. I'm going to wipe it with an alcohol wipe, so this will sting."

"Alcohol?"

"Don't get too excited. This is the kind you don't want to drink."

As if his wounds did not burn, Ivan hummed in content. "Alcohol. Your father has a nice stash of it, too, and he is gone for long times while it sits." He tipped his head to catch Matthew's eye. "Just thinking about it makes me thirsty!"

Matthew sighed and swatted him away. "All right, I get it." Normally, he would not recommend chugging a whole bottle of vodka, but the both of them been through Hell and back that night. Literally. "Hot chocolate and vodka, though? Isn't a weird mix?"

"Vodka goes with a lot of things, if not everything."

"So, you're feeling better?"

Ivan smiled as Matthew took a new wipe and started to scrub the side of his face that had drag marks of grass and blood stretching from his chin to his cheek. "I have a good friend taking good care of me. All I need is a good drink, and everything will be perfect."

Matthew stopped for a moment as his heart fell into his stomach with guilt. Don't you know how badly I want to kiss you? His friend tipped his head with a friendly smile on his face. Matthew's cheeks grew red, but tried not to pay it much mind as he resumed his gentle cleaning.

His eyes narrowed to focus and apply pressure to wash all the grit and dried blood from the drag marks, and set back to a more docile expression as he ran his fingertips across the divots. He could not let himself think of how warm Ivan's skin felt beneath his care; "Hm, still bleeding."

"What is that?"

"The gauze will help the wound not get dirt and blood everywhere. Just keep still..."

Once everything was against his face, Ivan said, "Tada!"

"Yep. What's next?"

"Ah," Ivan gave himself a little shake, and raised a hand to the side of his head. "My head was bleeding earlier. I think my horn became dislodged!"

"Uh oh," Matthew rose to his knees and brushed pale hair out of the way. "Nah, it's still pretty attached." He gently pinched the structure, jerking away as Ivan sharply inhaled. "I'm sorry!"

"Matthew, I have been hurt more tonight alone than that."

"I know, but I don't want to hurt you more than you already have," Matthew admitted, carefully spreading any flyaway strands away from raw skin. As he dabbed a rag along his horn, Ivan sighed and closed his eyes against rhythmic touches. It was awkward to get any bandaging around the base and under the horn, but at least the gauze kept tight.

"Ivan?"

"Hm?" Ivan's eyes blinked open. "What?"

"I think I'm finished," Matthew announced, shifting back to a sitting position as he gathered the bloody wipes and splinters. "Does that feel better?"

Ivan lifted a hand to brush the bandages around the base of his pulled horn, and trailed down to tap the gauze on his face. His cheeks uplifted. "Wow."

"Is...is it good enough? I'm not a doctor, obviously-"

Matthew yelped as Ivan threw his arms around his waist and yanked him into a close embrace. A warm, strong embrace. "You are wonderful. So, so wonderful. I need you for a very long time."

He says it so easily. Matthew pressed his cheek to the top of Ivan's light waves, eyes fluttering to scents of campfire persisting over the cold outside. "Arthur's probably going to be back real soon."

"Yes, I know, but you will fight him for me, and I will fight him for you, okay, Matthew?"

Matthew kept his eyes on the wall.

"Together, yes?"

Everything started to get blurry.

"Matthew?"

There were several, heavy knocks on the bedroom door. Both inhabitants jumped, and Matthew tore himself away and almost tumbled face-first onto his carpet. Whoever was on the other side called out, "Mattie! Are you in here?"

Matthew took in a shuddering breath, and let it out in a long sigh. "What is it, Alfred?"

Alfred busted into the room as if smoke poured out of it. "Dude, we got to talk!" He glanced to the demon on the bed and pointedly nodded to the door. "Preferably alone?"

Ivan lifted a hand. "Bye-bye."

Matthew grabbed his brother's shoulders and spun him around. "Stay there, Ivan!"

"I was going to!"

When he closed the door behind himself, Matthew turned to Alfred, who paced up and down the hall with a hand gripping his own chin in deep thought. He could easily imagine two billows of steam blowing out of Alfred's ears. "Mattie, whatever happened, I'm glad you're okay, but things might get worse!" He rubbed his face with both hands, glasses bobbing up and down with the motion, "What are we going to do?!"

"What do you mean what are we going to do? Is Arthur around?" Matthew's voice started to quicken, "Is he going to come here and-and like, kill us?!"

Alfred looked absolutely bewildered by the question, but thankfully, not scared. "Uh, hopefully not?! I mean, I did just spend a good chunk of my ear listening to him scream and bitch about your buddy being a demon and wanting to eat the whole world, but he's calmed down a bit for now."

A bit?! Nobody knew what a 'bit' meant for Arthur. "For now..." Matthew already wanted to go back into his bedroom. "Al, this is so low-key, I don't know why everyone is making it into a big deal. Can't Arthur look the other way? Can't he leave us alone? We're not hurting anybody."

Alfred stopped going back and forth, and tossed his arms out in an equally annoyed gesture, "He said that some other angel would catch on if not for him." Matthew's shoulders and heart sank. "I'm sorry, bro, but maybe a demon shouldn't really be here in the first place!"

Matthew performed a double take. "Who says?"

"Well, he's a demon, man!" Like that was a wonderful argument. "If you knew this from the start, then why did you keep him around instead of - I don't know - exorcising him?"

Arthur must have put these crude things into Alfred's brain. To send him in the house, to speak to him, instead of showing his bruised face to Matthew, the coward-!

Matthew clenched his hands into fists, tempted to start throwing punches again. "How would you feel if I told you to tell Arthur to go pound salt? Oh, wait, you won't, because he's an angel. Beautiful, innocent, demon-punching angel."

"Ha, beautiful and innocent?" Alfred whistled, and Matthew wanted to punch him. "You're the one that's saying that. Don't you think there's a good reason the angels work so hard to keep demons down in Hell, possibly where they belong? I said possibly!"

Matthew lifted his eyebrows at the opportunity that stretched before him. "Oh? You don't know?"

"Uh...because they're known to terrorize people?"

Oh, Alfred, my poor brother, but you utter dumbass. "As if there aren't enough people doing that. The angels need humans. Or, at least, they're in high demand." Alfred started to get confused. Matthew continued, "I'll give you that some demons should be chased away and stay in Hell, but they put up a 'Keep Out' sigh for every single one of them. All because they're the only other natural competition they have."

Now, Alfred was extremely confused. His eyes flickered back and forth, most likely chasing thought. "Uh, what?"

Matthew could hardly believe his brother had not heard of this. Any of it, but of course, it would be greatly unbecoming for Arthur to admit what he was truly after. He may have to numb this madness, to let Alfred down more gently, because the angels sure would not.

"Um...say you have...a burger?" More confidently, "Yeah, you have a burger sitting in front of you, and you really want that burger."

Alfred gave his head a little shake, but smiled anyway. "Yeah, I'd want that burger, but what does this-"

"Of course you would, but you can't have the burger if there's other people trying to have the burger, too."

"Well, I'd just shove it in my mouth!"

"It would be pretty hard to while everyone is trying to grab and eat it at the same time you are. You aren't going to get all the burger if that keeps happening."

"So...you're calling us...people burgers?"

"Yes! We're the burgers to the angels, and everyone else trying to grab the burger are the demons. That's why the angels try to keep the demons away, so they can get all of the burger."

"Burger...?" Alfred whispered. He shook his head and started to mess with his back pocket. "You know what? I think Artie was actually right the whole time." He pulled out his phone. "Something definitely got scrambled in your brain."

Matthew gasped and leaped forward to smack a hand over the screen. "Wait, no!" Alfred lifted his eyebrows, not impressed. "Haven't you ever asked Arthur why he's hanging around all the time?"

"We're working together to help people, Mattie." A little snippy, "What do you think we're doing?"

Matthew shoved his fingers into his hair, already feeling a tension headache knocking on his brain. "Al, please, just hear me out, okay?!" Deep breath. "I know it's great to finally know and to have something more to life, and maybe Arthur's a really good guy to you, but the main reason they're like this is because they feed off of us!"

"Ugh," Matthew rectified himself, "not all zombie-like. I mean, they like being around and bathe in our good vibes or something."

Alfred narrowed his eyes. "Artie never said anything like that. They like worrying about the souls growing and stuff!" Matthew gave him a dirty look, making him laugh a little, "Where'd you hear that from anyway?"

Matthew sighed. "Ivan." He shook his hands at his brother, "Wait, wait, wait, before you start freaking out! The angels have that 'no demon' policy because they don't want them to eat that burger while they're eating, but Ivan's not eating any burgers! I'm not going to be demon chow anytime soon. It's not like that!"

"Pfft, you said demon chow." Alfred tucked his phone into his pocket and put his hands on his waist to get serious. Mostly serious. "Well, even if all that feeding stuff is true, and I guess Artie and I have even more things we have to discuss, I don't want Ivan eating your burger!" His nose curled. "Or you! Or anybody! So, make sure he doesn't!"

Matthew slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning, "He's not going to, Al! I already told you that he's just visiting out of curiosity. He's over a cold burner, remember? That's why he went through all this to disguise himself. It was the only way he could hang around without anybody trying to kill him."

"Hey, that was self defense on Artie's part. Your guy literally tried to sky-dive onto him. He almost dove on me!"

"Because Arthur had no business snatching me out of my own home?"

"He was doing his job!"

Matthew curtly suggested, "Let's not get into this right now."

Alfred pulled an angry face, but thankfully, shrugged everything off. "Yeah. Fine."

Matthew let out a little sigh of relief. He could not afford to fight with his brother, too. Not that he even wanted to do so, anyway. "Al," he cleared his throat when his voice did something funny, "all I'm asking is if you could talk to Arthur about allowing Ivan to stay here. He'll stay covered up while he's on the surface, and he definitely won't be eating any humans."

"Jeez! I hope not!" Alfred eyes and voice drooped, "Mattie, that's not up for me to decide. I mean, I'm going to try! Trust me, I've been trying all night, but Arthur's freaking out about the other angels finding out and getting involved! Or what if Ivan slips up? You know, I don't want to see any horrible crap happening to any of us, but..."

Matthew felt a hard pressure against his forehead when he pushed back the sting in his eyes. "Please, Al. There has to be something. H-he's one of the only friends I managed to make and keep. I don't want to lose him over this."

"Mattie?" Alfred took a step forward. "Are you crying?"

"No. Almost. Does it matter?!"

"I-I just..." Alfred's voice bounced to a noisy whisper, "Are you sure you're just friends? Friends are important, too, but you're fighting tooth and claw about this!"

Matthew angrily hissed back, "Yes, we're just friends! I just care about him a lot!"

"Dude, you totally got the feelings! The Feelings!"

"Keep your voice down!" Matthew panicked, and tossed a glance to his door. He squeezed by his brother to put distance between himself and his bedroom. "I said. We're just. Friends."

Alfred danced like there was no tomorrow. Maybe there was not. "Everything makes sense now! This is so much better than that possession crap Arthur was spewing out! Of course a bitter pigeon wouldn't get it!"

A bitter pigeon? What...? Matthew gave in with a slouch. Arthur was a bitter pigeon. Maybe worse. Pigeons just wanted crumbs. Arthur asked for much more than that.

"It would only be worse you told him that." Angels and love? Laughable. "Arthur wouldn't believe a demon has The Feelings! Or if someone has legit feelings for a demon." Matthew stammered, "If I really did!"

"Nope! No!" Alfred jigged side-to-side and wagged a finger at nothing in particular, which meant an idea was coming. "Maybe not a demon, but two people having The Feelings for each other! It's simple science!" He sucked in a loud gust of air and threw his fists down, an end to his little dance. "Darn it. If he only weren't a demon!"

"Yeah," Matthew agreed. If only.

"Dude!"

"Uh, dude, what?!"

"Okay, okay," Alfred's dance picked back up. "This is going to sound pretty stupid-"

"What else is new?"

"Come on! Ugh, what if Ivan wasn't a demon? I mean, what if we make him into a...not demon?"

"What, turn someone into something they aren't? I don't think you can do that."

"Hah! These are angels we're talking about, Mattie, not scientists! We could like, maybe neutralize his demonic thingies?" Alfred made a looping motion around the side of his head, "That light Artie does, what he was doing when our dudes were...you know...it can...how do I explain it? He said it temporary weakened Ivan, and all his darkness got washed away!"

Matthew gawked at his brother jabbing his hands in the air, including sound effects, "Arthur was like, 'Pew!' and 'Pah!' and 'Whoosh!'" He almost smacked a hand into the wall. "Ivan was like, "'Agh!' Maybe something with that could do something and could get Arthur off your back!"

"That's amazing." Really, what a show. Before Matthew could also jump for joy, he had to ask, "Would Arthur do it for a demon? For Ivan? F-for...me?"

Alfred froze in his leering pose, and blinked a few times, thinking hard. "I'm going to see what he says about it. I swear if he is still gun-ho about this afterwards, we're going to have to like, tie him up and leave him somewhere to stew about it."

Matthew blurted, "Or throw a brick at him!"

"Uh, yeah, you could do that. Let's try talking first."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," a little giggled escaped Matthew. "You know, it would probably be easier to do the thing than to get them to do it."

"Ha-ha! You probably got that right!"

Matthew aimlessly gestured with his hands in the air as words failed him. So, he flung himself at his brother, hoping that would get his point across. "Thank you so much, Al!"

Alfred eagerly hugged him back, smacking his arms against his shoulders and cackling in his ear, "You're welcome, Mattie! You freaking sap!" They pulled away, much more hopeful now. "Where'd you run off to last night?"

"Hell and back!"

"Hell?!" Alfred's eyes bulged out. "You seriously went-"

Matthew's bedroom door flew open, and Ivan leaped into the hall, full of loud snarls. Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, more offended than afraid. "Are you seriously growling at me?"

Matthew backed away with an arm held out to his side. "No, not you. Behind you."

Alfred jumped when a newcomer grabbed his forearm and pulled him away from his brother. "Oh, hey, Arthur!"