Marcus was right. The bed in the guest room was way more comfortable than the chair in the living room. Tomas burrowed his head into the pillow with something that sounded almost like a purr. He enjoyed the fresh smell of the linens; even more the soft fabric of the shirt and sweatpants he was offered as a sleep wear. He knew they belonged to Marcus, even though they were washed. There was still a touch of his color lingering behind, a golden shine that enveloped Tomas in warmth and calm. He soaked up the feeling, knowing he desperately needed a break from all the nightmares and sickness that was closing in on him lately. If only he could get a bit of reprieve, he could get some of his energy back and maybe, just maybe, build up his walls so they were strong enough to keep the images out.

Tomas could hear movement from the hall, he could even swear that someone opened the door and checked up on him maybe fifteen minutes after he lay down in bed, but he was already in that zone where things didn't seem real, where time stopped having meaning and thoughts were floating freely around.

For once there was no scratching at the back of his mind, no whispers from the shadows all around. There was only peace and quiet and Tomas thought he could stay in that place of nothingness forever. But things were never so easy. After what seemed like an eternity but could've been just a blink of an eye, Tomas found himself running down an unfamiliar street.

It was dark, in the middle of the night. The lights were out in all the windows, the only thing showing him the road was the moonlight, shining starkly at the tarmac. He could hear barking of wild dogs, could hear the screams of a child in the distance. Most of all, Tomas heard his own ragged breaths, felt the burning in his calves and lungs as he was being chased by something - towards something.

He ran through an alley then a street, almost feeling the dogs yapping at his heels, but when he turned, he couldn't see them. Only the barking and the grotesque screams, which were coming closer. Or... he was getting closer to them.

It felt like an eternity, as if there was no end to those streets but Tomas couldn't stop his feet even if he wanted to. Something pulled him, navigated him through the labyrinth of houses, until he reached a door. He barged in without knocking, not even surprised that the door wasn't locked. Tomas spotted a haggard looking woman sitting on a rocking chair, bottle feeding an infant. He wanted to pause, to apologize for his presence, but he couldn't even find the energy to spare her more than a glance. He was being pulled towards a room with a broken down door. Only once inside the room did Tomas come to a halt, the need to run gone, as if someone cut his strings.

He stood in the room, eyes wide and breathing all but stopped. In front of him was a bed with a boy not much younger than him. He lay there, tied up like a rabid animal, arms and legs bleeding from rope burns as he was obviously trying to escape his bonds. At this moment the boy was laying still, breathing rapidly, mouth full of sores and rotting teeth slightly open to let in air, the tongue flickering for moisture. His eyes were feverish and wild and Tomas could see the shadow sitting on the boy's chest, heavy and dark as the night. The black tendrils were enveloping the boy in a cocoon, closing around his neck, entering his ears and mouth, whispering and screaming at the same time. Some tendrils were wrapped around the boy's wrists and ankles and Tomas could see that the shadow had the boy propped as a puppet. Every movement he made was just the shadow's play, to what means, Tomas didn't know. But he was sure it had everything to do with the man kneeling next to the boy.

Such a familiar face, yet so different from what Tomas knew. It was still shining with that inner strength, but there was too much anguish and fear in it. He didn't want to think about Marcus experiencing such feelings, about being in such place.

"No, this isn't true," Tomas said, taking a step back, hitting the wall. He could feel the texture of the wall under his fingers, could smell the rot, blood and piss in the air and it made him want to sick up, but he couldn't. The scene in front of him was too surreal and he still thought this was a dream he could wake up from.

Marcus, not much younger than he was now, looked tired and beaten, sweat running down his face as he was praying fervently. The words were Latin, some familiar, some not. Marcus was kneeling next to the bed as the boy tossed and turned feverishly.

Tomas was startled when the boy spoke in Spanish, asking for his mother.

"Your mother's just in the next room. Gabriel, listen to me," Marcus pleaded and Tomas could see the fear and worry he had for that boy on his face, hear it in his voice clear as day. But most of all, he saw the ripples of red mixing with the usual warm light surrounding Marcus. He was suffering almost as much as Gabriel and Tomas's heart broke for both of them.

"It hurts-" Gabriel moaned and Tomas cringed in sympathy.

"I'm going to save you, I promise I am. But you have to keep fighting." Marcus soaked a rag in a bowl of water and he gently washed Gabriel's face. But there must've been something in the water, because the boy hissed and buckled under the touch as if it was acid touching his skin. Tomas could see the dark shadow rippling in anger, tightening its hold, digging deeper under the skin...

"It hurts!" Gabriel screamed but Marcus didn't relent, even though there were tears in his eyes.

"There once was a cat..." he spoke in choked voice, and Tomas knew that rhyme, heard it from his Abuelita before. "With feet made of cloth."

"And upside-down eyes," Tomas spoke along with Marcus, in silent horror.

"Would you like me to tell you the story again?" Marcus asked with hope, but the boy didn't react. "Gabriel, Gabriel, come back to me!" he pleaded as Gabriel started tossing around on the bed. The metal frame rattled with the force as he buckled, trying to get free of his bonds. Marcus put a hand on his chest, trying to hold him down, and Tomas could see some of that shining energy pour from his fingers into the boy's chest, but it was as if there was an invisible shield. It couldn't penetrate the dark shadow, it only made it angry and Tomas stepped forward to try and warn Marcus, but he couldn't move. The horror of it all froze his legs in place.

"Come back. You have to fight!" Marcus pleaded and threatened, still full of hope, even as Gabriel gave a horrifying screech.

"God has not abandoned you!" Marcus said but Tomas knew it was not true. He could see the shining light pull back from Marcus's hands, as if it was a conscious entity, while the darkness surged forward, the huge shadow moving from Gabriel's side toward his face, covering his nostrils and mouth like a huge hand. Gabriel's eyes widened and Tomas could see the exact moment when the boy was gone... the last of his pale blue color enveloped in black as the shadow entered through the boy's mouth and overcome his whole body.

"Marcus!" Tomas called out in warning at the same time as Gabriel did and Marcus's name was turned into an inhuman growl.

It took but a moment for Marcus to realize the truth that he had failed, as Gabriel's eyes changed and a third pupil appeared where it had no place to be. Still, he grabbed his bible and the cross, not ready to give up. Tomas would have admired the resolve, if he didn't know it was too late. Gabriel was gone and the thing lying on the bed was just putting on a show, the air around it rippling in twisted satisfaction even as Marcus spat out words of prayer.

"I don't want to be here," Tomas said, the scene in front of him too horrible to watch. "Please, let me go. Let me wake up," he said and closed his eyes, even though he couldn't get the images out of his head, couldn't unhear Marcus's desperation and the demonic growls and screeches. And that was the moment when Tomas realized what the shadow was, what all the shadows he kept seeing on peoples shoulders when walking the street were and it made him sick to his stomach, the thought that this could be more than just a dream.

Despite his own prayers to get away from the room, from that scene, Tomas was glued to the place, as real as anything he ever felt before. There was no escape, nowhere to run and Tomas found himself repeating the words of prayer falling out of Marcus's mouth. But nothing helped as Gabriel - the demon - spat out bloody teeth. Like hypnotized, Tomas watched as a tooth landed mere inches from his bare feet. He leaned down and picked it up, feeling the texture, the sharp edges biting into the skin of his fingers until he let it fall back to the floor, the sound of it hitting the wood lost in the screaming and roaring of wind inside the room. And where did the wind come from? Tomas blinked, lost and dazed, all comprehensive thought leaving his mind.

"We command you!" Marcus shouted, spraying holy water on the figure on the bed. There was an angry growl and Tomas could swear he heard the sound of the sizzling skin as the water hit it. He could definitely smell burnt meat and only the horror of it all kept him from doubling over and throwing up. Tomas watched with wide eyes as Gabriel lunged up and his teeth snapped close on Marcus's right shoulder.

"No!" Tomas shouted, one hand reaching out in an attempt to help, but the distance between him and Marcus remained the same. He could do absolutely nothing, only watch as his mentor suffered. Tomas couldn't handle that. He put his fists against his eyes, pressing so hard it felt as if his own brain would explode. He didn't let go until the sounds around him changed.

He could hear water dripping, overflowing in the sink, furniture rattling, paper crinkling as the whole room came to life. The figure on the bed - and Tomas refused to call it a boy anymore, because there wasn't one - gave an inhuman growl and spoke with a voice of a man. Taunting Marcus, enjoying his suffering even as Marcus paid back in same, calling on God's force.

"I command you unclean spirit, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of incarnation, by the passion the resurrection and the ascension of our lord Jesus Christ," Marcus grabbed his collar and pulled it off, as if it was choking him, but Tomas could see it wasn't the collar, it was the shadow tendril reaching out, curling around Marcus's throat, tightening its grip. It couldn't do much more, because Marcus's light was too strong, but still it was trying, lashing out, because Marcus was hurting it.

"-by the coming of our Lord for judgment, that you tell me by some sign your name, and the day and hour of your departure!" Marcus shouted and the demon spat out a name, its own name, as if it was a curse.

"Baptist!"

"The hour of your departure! Baptist!" Marcus called out and there was a flash of light, as if God himself was trying for a last Hail Mary. The demon just laughed, the face full of sores and blood screwing up in a grimace.

"Not... long... now." It said in raspy breaths. Marcus himself couldn't seem to catch his breath. He fell to his knees by the bed, praying in choked voice, with tears running down his face.

"And Jesus said... come to me, all you who are weary and burdened-"

The figure coughed, but Marcus kept going.

"-and I will give you rest. Gabriel!"

There was a deep, croaking laugh, the metal frame of the bed rattled and the boy's arms moved with strength that wasn't human, snapping the ties binding him in two like nothing. Tomas could see the demon was in full control as the body rose into standing position, a puppet led by its master. Marcus could only stare in horror as the figure slapped him in the face, once, twice. The second slap sent him reeling back into the wall.

"Look upon me, Marcus!" the demon called and Marcus looked, because there was no other choice, and Tomas looked with him.

There was the sound of bones cracking and the boy doubled over in pain, giving a cry that could've belonged to a human, a child.

Marcus started shaking his head, eyes wide as he knew what was going to happen. Tomas could only watch as if in slow motion. The boy's head started turning, skin taunt to the limit, a grimace of pain and horror forever embedded on the face as the neck finally reached its final point. There was a snap that was soft, but at the same time sounded loud as a shot from a gun. The dark shadow surged out of the now useless body and the boy fell down, limp and lifeless, just an empty shell.

Tomas heard Marcus's scream, full of pain and despair and knew it was the sound of the man's heart breaking, the sound of someone losing faith.

"God please no," Tomas could hear as the world turned dark and he bolted upright in the bed, the words sounding from his own mouth as a mantra.


„Please no," Tomas whispered, sitting on the bed, arms curled around his midriff just like Gabriel's before he died. The thought alone sent Tomas toppling out of the bed, rushing forward, blindly searching for the door to the hall. He knocked his leg into a chair in the foreign room but barely noticed. His mind was rushing, his stomach feeling as if it would rip in half with pain and sickness. Tomas stumbled out into the hall and made it to the bathroom just in time, before falling on his knees and letting out the soup Marcus managed to get into him.

He was heaving quietly, aware through all that Marcus and Peter were in a room down the hall. He didn't want to wake them, just like he didn't want to wake Olivia when he was home. Spitting out the last of bile into the toilet, Tomas leaned back against the wall, spent.

It wasn't real, none of that was real, he thought to himself, tried to convince himself. It couldn't have been. Just a nightmare, too vivid imagination and the fact he spent the night away from home. There was no such thing as demons killing small children. There couldn't be. The implication of it was too grave for Tomas to even consider. He felt his stomach rebelling again, but he forced himself to calm his breathing.

'Just a dream' he repeated, clutching at the hem of the shirt that was now soaked through with sweat. Tomas grimaced. He would've liked to change, but he didn't have other clothes and he was disgusted by the thought he sweat through those fresh linens in the guest room. If he was home he would just change them and hide the dirty ones until Olivia wasn't home and he could wash them, but he didn't have that option here. With a sigh, Tomas shrugged off the thought. The guys will have to accept it or decide not to invite him anymore. There was nothing to be done about it.

He could at least freshen up a bit before going to bed. Tomas pulled himself up clutching at the sink, his legs still too shaky to hold him up proper.

'I need to stop this' he thought. There was no way he could keep going on if every nightmare sent him puking. He was losing weight and people were starting to notice.

Tomas turned on the tap and splashed some cold water on his face, then used a bit of the mouthwash to clean his mouth. Feeling at least marginally more like a human, his heart less inclined to jump out of his chest, Tomas quietly exited the bathroom and turned off the light. He walked down the hall on the tip of his feet, thankful there were no creaking floorboards, when he heard voices from the bedroom. Tomas froze in front of the door.

He could hear a hushing tone and someone groaning. He knew he should just continue to his room, lest he be caught eavesdropping, but the words glued his feet to the floor, almost like in the dream.

"It was just a nightmare, it's over. You're okay. I'm here." That was Peter, talking to Marcus in a tone Tomas used to hear from his Abuelita when he was hurt or scared. The thought brought a pang of longing and deep loss. Tomas grit his teeth, but didn't move.

"I wish it was just a nightmare," Marcus groaned and Tomas could hear his weariness, his distress clear even through the door separating them. Tomas's breath halted. What was Marcus saying?

"Him again?" Peter asked and there was a sound of rustling clothes and the bed creaking as its occupants moved around.

Tomas couldn't hear what Marcus muttered and he was hard pressed to step closer to the door while at the same time the horror of what he could hear kept him rooted to the spot.

"Was it the same?"

"It's always the same. I can still hear the... crack. See his eyes-" Marcus's voice was choked, as if he was holding back crying. Tomas closed his fist and squeezed so hard he could feel the nails digging into skin. This could still mean something else. They could've been talking about anything really, Tomas tried to convince himself when he heard steps on the floor.

"Marcus?"

"Just need something to drink. Be right back." The voice was too close and Tomas realized how it would look if he was caught standing in front of the door. He also knew that he wouldn't make it to his room in time and he panicked, heading towards the stairs. He made it down halfway before he heard Marcus call his name and he stopped.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?" Marcus asked from the top of the stairs, confusion clear in his voice.

"Yeah, just got... thirsty. Sorry if I woke you up..." Tomas quickly fibbed, feeling some relief when Marcus shook his head.

"No, I was up. Did... did we wake you?" It was almost funny how uncertain Marcus sounded as he followed Tomas down the stairs into the kitchen.

Tomas shrugged.

"I think I went to sleep a bit too early," he said as an explanation and even though he could barely see in the dark, he was sure Marcus rolled his eyes.

"It is only two in the morning, Tomas. Hardly enough time to catch up on the rest you need," Marcus said, his voice a bit more steady as he pushed back the nightmare. Focusing on Tomas obviously helped calm him down and Tomas was happy to be of help, albeit a bit leery of being the center of attention.

They reached the kitchen and before Tomas could stumble over another chair or hit the counter, Marcus warned him and turned on the light.

They both grimaced and closed their eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the change. Tomas was first to blink his eyes open and noted Marcus leaning against the counter, rubbing at his own eyes. They looked red and Marcus's face bore the sign of a restless night, just as Tomas thought his own must've done. Tomas was still reeling from what he heard upstairs, trying to make some sense of it. He wasn't really thirsty, his stomach rebelling at the thought of swallowing anything, but he needed a distraction. And maybe some sugar would chase away the taste of vomit and stop his hands from shaking. Worried that Marcus might notice, Tomas turned to the fridge.

"Can I grab some soda?" Tomas asked, still not comfortable with the idea of just taking something without asking first. Marcus put his arms down and looked at him with a small smile.

"Sure. As long as its alcohol free, grab whatever you like."

Tomas reached in and took a can of sprite, then gave Marcus a sheepish grin.

"Oh, so I can get some coffee too?"

Marcus rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, in the middle of the night that will be a fat no. But if you pass me a bottle of water, I will be eternally grateful."

Tomas took a cool bottle out of the fridge then turned to Marcus, handing it to him. Only then did he note the fact that Marcus was in his night attire, which meant shorts and a wife beater. Tomas couldn't help it, he stared. It was the first time he saw Marcus in anything without sleeves... and it was the first time he saw the tattoo on his left shoulder of what looked like scars. Tomas frowned, his eyes stuck on the criss-cross pattern. Marcus noted the look.

"Old scars..." he spoke as he opened the bottle of water and took a swig. "From times long past."

Tomas shook his head and looked away.

"I didn't mean to pry." He blushed and opened his own drink. He took a small sip, praying it would settle his stomach. The coldness felt fantastic against his lips and if Marcus wasn't giving him such a speculative look, he would have just rolled the can over his forehead. As it was, Tomas took another sip and looked at his bare feet.

"You weren't prying," Marcus spoke and gave Tomas a reassuring smile when he chanced a look.

"I won't lie, there were bad times. Kids can be pretty cruel, and feeling all alone doesn't help. But I got through and I can't be happier now."

It sounded like he was trying for a pep talk, or maybe make Tomas realize that the future could be brighter than it seemed. Maybe it would have worked... Tomas felt like he needed to open up to someone or he would just burst and he had questions, so many questions. Most of all he wanted to hear Marcus tell him that Gabriel wasn't real, that what he heard him say upstairs was a misunderstanding and the dream was just a dream.

But that's when Marcus put down the bottle of water and he shifted, turning a bit. And Tomas saw it. The scar on his right shoulder... in the form of a bite mark. At the exact same place where he saw the boy in the dream sink his teeth into Marcus.

Tomas felt as if the world narrowed into a single point... a single scar. He didn't see the sudden frown on Marcus's face, didn't see the man moving towards him. Tomas didn't hear Marcus calling out his name or put his hand on his face. All he sensed was the scar in the shape of a child's bite, all he could see was Gabriel, standing on that bed, bent in half, his head turning excruciatingly slowly until there was a snap and the body fell to the floor, limp.

Tomas felt his own body go limp, the shadows around him closing in and he expected the floor to hit him in the face when a pair of hands grabbed him.

The touch did it. It was as if someone just threw a bucket of cold water over his head. Tomas let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and looked at Marcus who was standing right next to him, one arm around his waist, the other holding his upper arm, eyes full of worry and mouth moving.

"Tomas!"

The sound was back and Tomas gave a shaky nod.

"I'm okay," he said but didn't protest when Marcus led him to a chair and pushed him to sit down. Next thing Tomas knew was Marcus's hand cupping his face, Marcus leaning a bit too close into his personal space, studying his face with scary intensity. Tomas jerked away and Marcus's eyes narrowed. He ran a hand over Tomas forehead then let his face go and just put a steadying hand on his shoulder before pulling up a chair and sitting opposite of him.

"What happened?" he asked without a preamble and Tomas didn't know what to say. How could he explain the storm that was currently raging in his mind? He felt like he was locked up in a small room filled with myriad of small, sharp puzzle pieces. It felt like he was trying to put the puzzle together for the last few years, but the sharp edges always cut him and he couldn't connect them, no matter how hard he tried. Until now. Seeing that bite on Marcus's shoulder after the dream was as if someone opened a window inside that room and let the light float in. Tomas could finally see the small connecting pieces that went around the sharp edges... he could finally start putting together the picture and first he thought the red on the pieces was his own blood, dripping from the shallow cuts on his fingertips, but then he realized it was part of the big picture. A picture that become more horrifying the more pieces Tomas managed to put together and he was sure he didn't want Marcus anywhere near him once he saw the whole thing. He knew for sure he didn't want anyone near him by that point.

But Marcus was still there, watching him with so much concern it pulled Tomas out of the room, at least for a second. He swallowed and tried for a reassuring smile.

"I'm sorry. I just... got a bit dizzy."

Marcus gritted his teeth.

"It looked like you forgot to breathe. Did you... see something?"

"See?" Tomas asked, his confusion over what Marcus meant mixed with worry that he could have figured it out. "I didn't... didn't see anything."

Marcus seemed to be doubting him, but couldn't very well accuse him of lying. In a way, Tomas even told the truth. He didn't see anything, except the scar. Not now at least.

Marcus sighed, a hand squeezing Tomas's knee.

"Are you still feeling dizzy?"

Tomas thought about it. Was he feeling dizzy? In a way... his mind was running at a dizzying speed and having to concentrate on Marcus as well was just making everything worse. Even though the concern Tomas could see emanating from the older man would make him feel touched in a way, right now it was suffocating and stealing his focus.

"I'm fine... it's just late. I think I should go back to bed."

Marcus couldn't really protest that idea, even though he looked like he wanted to. Tomas faked a yawn and rubbed at his eyes.

Marcus sighed and run his hand over Tomas's hair. Tomas forced himself not to flinch away. While the touch would've felt welcome only a few minutes ago, the pieces of the puzzle were still being connected and the resultant image brought real fear. As it was, Tomas nodded his head and made to get up.

"You sure you don't need anything?" Marcus asked, mirroring Tomas's move and standing by his side, as if afraid he would fall any moment. Tomas almost rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine, thanks. Just gonna head back to bed." Another yawn and Tomas headed out of the kitchen, acutely aware of Marcus shadowing him until he reached the door to the guest room. He paused there and turned.

"Sorry for... worrying you," Tomas said quietly and a bit embarrassed. Marcus just shook his head.

"Don't apologize. Just promise to call if you need anything, okay? Don't worry about waking me or Peter up."

Tomas felt a pang of regret as he looked up and lied straight to Marcus's face.

"Yeah, I'll call you if I need you."

Marcus nodded and waited in the hall until Tomas closed the door to the room. Tomas leaned back against the door and waited several minutes until he heard low voices from the next room. Then he stumbled towards the bed in the darkness and fell down on top of it. He waited in silence for another half an hour until he felt sure Marcus had fallen back to sleep. Then he rolled over, turned on the bedside lamp and took a pen and notebook from his backpack. The words of the prayer Marcus shouted at Gabriel in the dream were still vivid in his mind. He wrote them down, along with every gruesome detail he could remember. With each word on the paper another piece of the puzzle connected. Tomas knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon. If anything of what he was thinking was true... Tomas wondered if he would be able to sleep ever again.

By the time morning came, the picture in Tomas's mind was beginning to make a scary sense, but he still had to find hard evidence, had to figure out what to do next. To figure out whether Marcus posed a threat or was his only chance.

When Tomas heard movement in the hall, he stashed the now full notebook back into his backpack and got out of the bed. He stifled a yawn and rubbed at his eyes, knowing he didn't get nearly enough sleep in the last few days but it would have to suffice for now. It wasn't like this was the first time he had to pretend he felt better than he did... ever since leaving Mexico he became something of a pro. Or at least that was what he was telling himself as he walked down the stairs.

The breakfast was a somewhat silent affair seeing as all three of them had disturbed sleep. Or maybe it was usual for Marcus and Peter. The radio was turned on, the smell of fresh coffee perking up all three occupants of the kitchen as Peter served the scrambled eggs and toast. Tomas's stomach grumbled unexpectedly and he earned a grin from Marcus. Tomas returned the smile, trying hard not to look at Marcus's shoulder. Even though now he had a shirt covering the scar, Tomas could see it clearly... it was a slightly darker stain in his aura.

"So what are your plans for today?" Peter asked as all three of them were finishing the food and Tomas shrugged.

"I need to go to the library then I'll hang out with Olivia." It was a sound plan, seeing as his sister was most probably already sleeping off the night shift.

"Library? On a Saturday?" Marcus grimaced. "If you don't have better plans, maybe you can join us... there's a fair by the lake. Sounds better than books."

Any other day and Tomas would've jumped at the chance to spend more time with Marcus and Peter and visiting the fair. To feel normal for a moment and have some fun. But right now he thought he needed to be as far from Marcus as possible.

"Sorry, I really need to return some books or I'll get a fine... and I want to make some lunch for Olivia later. She might go a bit easier on me that way for lying."

"Ah, a preventive strike. Good idea." Peter approved of the plan, though Tomas saw Marcus eyeing him with some suspicion. He threw in an innocent smile and hoped it would be enough.

There was no mention about his middle of the night stroll to the kitchen, nor were there questions of how he slept and why there were dark circles under his eyes. It suited Tomas and he relaxed a bit, easily accepting Marcus's offer at a ride home. While he didn't want to spend twenty minutes inside the car with Marcus and give him a chance at asking questions, he knew there was no sense in trying to convince the man to let him just walk home.

"We told your sister you'll get a ride home and that's what will happen. I don't want her unleashing that tongue on me again," Marcus said when Tomas shook his head and opened his mouth to say no. Tomas rolled his eyes.

"She's not that scary," he grumbled under his breath.

"That's why you're cooking her lunch today?" Marcus raised an eyebrow and Tomas sighed. Really no point in arguing about that.

"Where did you learn Spanish?" Tomas asked out of the blue five minutes into their drive when Marcus turned towards him looking like he had something on his mind. Marcus paused then shrugged.

"I spent a few months in Spain around my twenties."

"You learned it in few months?" Tomas looked doubtful.

"I have a knack for languages and once you know Latin, it's not that hard to learn Spanish. Maybe it goes both ways?"

Tomas thought about it and had to agree. Latin didn't seem so complicated; sometimes English seemed to be more of a minefield for him.

"So did you get a chance to use it outside of Spain?" Tomas asked trying to sound only mildly interested, softly nudging the questions into the direction he was interested in.

Marcus frowned a bit in thought then gave a light shrug.

"From time to time. I travelled a lot and plenty of people speak Spanish. Why the sudden interest?"

"No reason, was just curious. You seem to have travelled a lot."

"Yes, I did."

"As a priest?" Tomas knew he was prying, but he wanted to hear some kind of admission from Marcus, or maybe he was still hoping to hear something that would make his suspicion invalid.

They just reached an intersection and were waiting on a red light, so Marcus turned to Tomas, eyeing him curiously.

"Yes, I travelled a lot as a priest. Is there something you want to ask me, Tomas?" His tone was open and inviting and Tomas almost let the true questions slip from his mouth, but the car behind them suddenly honked as the light turned green and Tomas lost his courage. Marcus sensed it and with a sigh turned back towards the traffic.

"When did you know you wanted to be a priest?" Tomas asked after a moment, so quietly Marcus almost overheard. That question was hard to answer, mostly because Marcus never really wanted to become a priest. An exorcist, yes. But that was something else, something he wasn't willing to share with Tomas, not yet. So he went with the answer that was closest to the truth.

"I didn't exactly want to be a priest, not in a way you would think of a priest nowadays. But when father Sean took me in, I felt a need to give back. To the church, to God. And at one point, I felt the calling, I felt His presence. I think that sealed the deal for me."

"You felt His presence? Like... God?" Tomas blinked, unsure what to make of it. Marcus looked like he wanted to explain, but there were things he was struggling with and Tomas didn't feel he had the right to push. "Sorry. I didn't mean to doubt you or something-" he quickly apologized, but Marcus waved it off.

"It is complicated, Tomas. Many things happened that don't make for happy memories, but yes, at one point, I felt His presence inside me. It was... something that can't really be described. The sheer enormity... the love..." Marcus shook his head, struggling to find the words, knowing he couldn't give it justice.

"So... you're saying God is real?"

"He is for me," Marcus answered instantly, then shot Tomas a look. "But I think everyone must find their own way to Him."

"Does... does it mean evil is real too?"

Marcus's grip on the wheel tightened, his jaw clenching.

"Yes. Yes, I think it is. I have... seen my fair share of it, just as I've seen a fair share of good. I think one can't exist without the other."

That wasn't what Tomas wanted to hear and it didn't settle the weird feeling inside his stomach, not by one bit. The rest of the ride was spent in a contemplative silence.

"So Monday another lesson? We should probably catch up on what we missed yesterday," Marcus said as Tomas was taking his bag from the back seat, ready to leave. Tomas looked up and a bit distractedly nodded.

"Yeah, sure. Monday."

"Is everything okay, Tomas?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I... thanks, for having me over yesterday."

Marcus nodded, though he still had a frown on his face.

"You know, if you need to talk about anything, I'm here for you. Be it school or nightmares. You can call me, anytime."

Tomas swallowed, feeling overwhelmed. He wanted to tell Marcus everything, but the image of Gabriel's neck snapping like a twig popped up in front of his mind, along with Marcus's anguished cry. No, he wasn't taking that risk.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." He gave a grateful nod and left before Marcus could comment on the sudden choked quality of his voice.