Sleep eluded him. Despite the fact his body was screaming for rest and Tomas managed to actually fall asleep, it didn't last. His mind was a whirlwind of images and colors and they were competing for the most gruesome picture. It didn't help that Tomas's stomach churned in pain. He didn't know if it was just the worry about his sister, the stress of everything that happened in the last few hours or if he was actually sick from whatever it was that invaded his body during the ritual. Tomas had to swallow several times and resort to some shallow breathing to calm down his stomach, even though he knew there was nothing to bring up anymore. Yet he was perhaps even more scared that if he tried, it would be inky darkness pouring from his lips.
Tomas's heart thumped wildly against his ribcage and he fidgeted on the backseat, stilling only when Marcus turned and asked him if he was okay. Tomas grunted a non-committal reply and forced himself to relax. While Marcus's concern would've been otherwise appreciated, right now it just made Tomas feel all the more guilty.
"Let me know if you need me to pull over, okay?" It was Peter this time and Tomas bit into his bottom lip to stop the growl.
'Why are you being so kind when I fucked everything up?' he thought but didn't dare to speak. Instead he pulled the blanket higher over his shoulder, trying to get lost in the warmth. Even with the heating in the car turned on, Tomas was still chilled.
"Anyone mind if I turn up the radio?" came the question and Tomas would have just about hugged Marcus for that. If he wasn't feeling so damn bad.
As there were no arguments, Marcus turned on the radio and found a local station playing some country. He turned the volume down so it was just a background noise, but Tomas didn't mind. He tried to focus on the songs instead of the images flashing in front of his eyes. He almost managed, but once again sleep dragged him down and he was back in the closet with a young man covering on the ground, sounds of gunshot ringing painfully loud, followed by a woman's scream, then nothing but silence. Tomas blinked and the closet vanished. He was back in the warehouse, tied to a chair and looking at Marcus. Marcus, who just had his arm cut open, the blood dripping to the floor in slow motion. One drop, two drops... Tomas's eyes followed the trajectory to the puddle that was growing on the floor. Bright red puddle... but with each drop the color of it changed, became darker and darker and Tomas couldn't pull away his eyes. The red became black and suddenly it wasn't a puddle anymore, it was a cloud hanging over Tomas's head, reaching out towards him, forcing its way inside, and staining his soul with unimaginable darkness...
Tomas was chocking. He couldn't breathe and there was something on his face, smothering him. A distorted male voice was singing about Mary Jane and there were two other voices, calling his name, but everything was coming from a distance and Tomas thought he was dying.
There was a lurch and Tomas's body rolled forward with the momentum, only to be stopped by hands. Everything came to a halt. For a second nothing existed, just his lungs screaming for air. Then the thing smothering him was pulled off his face and once again hands were grabbing at him, shaking him, pulling him up.
There was a slap and Tomas's eyes snapped open at the sting on his cheek. The shock of it however caused him to take in a big gulp of air. His lungs seized and Tomas took another breath, while trying to orient himself. He was sitting in the car, and Marcus was right there next to him, the open car doors an evidence of his haste to move.
"Tomas?" Marcus asked, eyes wide and worried, voice a bit choked. Peter was leaning back from the driver's seat, eyeing them both with concern. Tomas couldn't take it anymore. Not the concern, not the nightmare... not the churning of his stomach. He scrambled and pushed past a surprised Marcus. Tomas's feet hit the pavement and he stumbled, unsure of where he was. There was a road but there was also an embankment and grass... Tomas stumbled forward, pushing away the hand that tried to help him. As soon as he reached the grass he fell to his knees and leaned forward, retching. Nothing was coming up but bile. No blackness, no blood. Tomas closed his eyes in relief, his hands clutching at the tuff of grass so hard he pulled it out, but he didn't care. Feeling the dirt under his fingernails was preferable to feeling blood.
Finally, the heaving stopped, his body figuring out it was useless and Tomas sat back, utterly spent. All he wished for right now was a shower. He wanted to wash off the grime and dirt and the stain. He wanted to rub off his skin until it stung and become red, but clean. Most of all he just wanted to fall asleep without the threat of the terror he saw.
"Here. Rinse, spit, then drink." It was Marcus once again, offering him a bottle of water. He didn't try to touch him this time and Tomas felt oddly hurt by that until he remembered that he didn't react so well to Marcus's previous attempt.
"Thanks," Tomas muttered a bit sheepishly and reached for the bottle with shaking hands. Their fingers brushed and Tomas felt the warmth seep into his fingertips. He lingered, somehow unwilling to cut the contact. Marcus must've realized that, because there was warmth in his eyes and he gave Tomas a small smile, before reaching out with his other hand and putting it steadying on Tomas's shoulder.
Tomas nodded another thanks and moved the bottle to his parched lips. He followed Marcus's advice about rinsing then took a few small sips.
"You good to go back into the car?"
"Can we just... take a minute?" Tomas asked, trying to breath in the fresh air, but then he jumped as a car sped by. "Never mind. Let's... let's go back."
Marcus nodded and somehow awkwardly they both got to their feet. Peter was also out of the car but it wasn't just to help them out. He held a phone to his ear and was listening to the caller with a frown on his face. Tomas noted the grimace on his face but it was schooled the moment Peter saw him looking at him. Few more words were exchanged by the time Tomas and Marcus reached the car. Tomas sat on the backseat, feet still on the pavement, listening.
"Okay, yes. I understand. Give me a sec."
Peter pulled the phone from his ear and looked at them.
"It's Jim. He picked up Olivia and they are headed out of the city, but need to take a small detour. Which means we won't be waiting for them but continue to the cabin. Olivia should meet up with us tomorrow or the day after."
"What detour?" Tomas frowned, his worry once again rising, even though he felt relief at hearing that Olivia was okay.
"Jim just wants to create a false trail so to speak. They're heading south, we're going north. That should give us a bit more time to get off the radar."
"But are they safe?"
"As safe as any of us right now, kiddo," Peter said with a sigh. It didn't bode well with Tomas. He knew Peter wasn't telling him everything, he could see his aura swirl in worry, but as Tomas couldn't discern a specific fear, or rather nothing 'screamed' at him, he let Peter off the hook for now. His priority at this moment was his sister.
"Can I... can I speak to Liv?" Tomas asked and felt deep gratitude when Peter actually smiled and handed him the phone.
"Just remember, no details in the phone, okay?" Peter reminded him and Tomas nodded quickly only to be allowed to take the phone.
"Liv?" he spoke, his voice suddenly shaky.
"Tomas! Thank god! Are you okay? I was so scared when those men showed up. Please tell me you're alright?" Olivia blubbered, not letting Tomas get a word in edgewise. He had to laugh but was taken aback when it came out sounding more like a sob.
"Tomas?" this time Olivia's voice was small and worried and Tomas cursed himself. He didn't want to make her worry even more.
"I'm fine, Liv. I swear. I'm just... happy to hear you, is all," he said, trying to smile and he had to rub at his eyes because they were suddenly filling up with tears. He didn't even care that Peter and Marcus were watching him, though they were at least trying to do it inconspicuously and from a few feet back.
"You don't sound fine," Olivia protested and Tomas could just imagine the pout on her face. He shook his head and sniffed, then cleared his throat.
"I'm okay, don't worry. I just... want to see you. To know you're safe."
There was a momentary silence that put a frown on Tomas's face.
"Liv? You're safe, right?"
"Yes," she hastily said, then sighed. "We just need to take a detour. I want to see you too, Tomas. Need to make sure my little brother is alright." There was a smile in her voice and Tomas closed his eyes.
"Is Jim treating you okay?" he asked and heard a snort.
"He has been nothing but a gentleman. Now that other guy could use a bit of tact, but I suppose gruffness and bluntness comes with the territory of being a cop."
Tomas could hear a snort from the background and knew that his sister was probably making a face. Somehow the small banter eased his mind.
"Tomas, Jim is making gestures at me to cut this short. But I promise I'll call back soon, okay?"
"I'm sorry Liv, for all of this," Tomas blurted out and there was another silence on the other end. It made him think that maybe Olivia had already hung up.
"You have nothing to be apologize for, Tomas. Nothing. Do you understand?" she said and her voice was steady and strong. Tomas could only swallow down the lump in his throat.
"I really do, Liv," he whispered, but Olivia didn't take well to that.
"No. You can apologize to me for not telling me sooner and explain everything once we meet. But nothing of what happened is your fault, do you understand? I'm not blaming you."
And Tomas knew she meant it with her heart. Even if he thought she might change her mind once they were back together and she learned the truth, or well, whatever they decided to tell her, right now she meant every word. Tomas didn't have the heart to argue anymore.
"Yeah, I understand," he said and heard a relieved sigh.
"Good. I love you, little brother. Don't ever forget that. See you soon."
"I love you too, hermanita," Tomas said, then added a wistful "see you soon".
When the call ended he looked at the suddenly silent phone, lost in thought, until he saw movement. Peter was there, taking the phone from his lax fingers and Marcus squeezed his shoulder.
"You okay?"
Tomas just sighed then shook his head. He was as far from okay as possible but there wasn't much that could be done for that.
"We should get moving," Peter spoke and Marcus nodded.
"Do you want to try and go back to sleep?" Marcus asked Tomas and Tomas looked at the bunched up pillow and the blanket that now lay on the floor of the car. It was the blanket that he pulled up too high and in his nightmare mixed it up with the smothering presence. A shiver run through his body and Tomas shook his head.
"I'd rather not," he said and Marcus nodded in understanding.
"In that case would you mind if I joined you on the back seat? I think there's some loose spring in the passenger seat that makes it a bit uncomfortable to sit on," Marcus said with a smirk and Tomas knew he was lying out of his mouth, but somehow, he didn't care. The thought of Marcus being this close made the chill in his bones grow more distant. And maybe being so close Marcus could even stop the nightmares.
"Y-yeah, sure. Plenty of space here," Tomas nodded and scrambled inside, offering Marcus a spare pillow and the blanket. Marcus took the pillow and with a groan and some fidgeting found a semi comfortable position. Peter started the engine and they were back on the road, the radio still playing country. Several minutes went by and as the car's motion caused Tomas's eyes to slip closed, he found himself jerking awake repeatedly. It was maybe the third time when Peter ran over a small bump and Tomas jerked that Marcus just sighed gruffly and made a 'come here' motion. Tomas blinked, unsure what the older man meant. Marcus rolled his eyes, repeating the gesture and Tomas realized blearily that the man was offering his shoulder to sleep on.
"I don't want to hurt you," Tomas muttered but he was already moving.
"Please. You're too scrawny to cause any damage. And I'm used to my shoulder dying on me when Peter's heavy head chooses it as a pillow."
"My head is not heavy," Peter protested from the front and Tomas chuckled.
"Oh right. Heavy is the head that wears the crown... in which case, it is mine," Marcus smirked and Tomas relaxed against the bony shoulder. A minute later as his eyes closed once again he felt himself sinking down and his head hitting a pillow on an equally bony legs. This time when Morpheus came for him there were no dreams and no nightmares, just blissful darkness.
Whatever distraction Jim and Olivia presented, it must've paid off, Peter thought as he parked the car in front of the cabin. For a moment he just leaned back in the seat and let out a relieved sigh. They were safe, at least for the moment. With only a few small stops he spent almost twenty hours behind the wheel and he was worried that getting out of the car might pose a slight problem. It was also the middle of night and the other two passengers were softly snoring on the backseat. Having Marcus sit there obviously helped Tomas. Either that or the kid was simply too tired to stay awake. Except for two bathroom breaks and to eat a measly sandwich Tomas spent the whole ride asleep.
Peter felt almost bad for having to wake the two up, but he couldn't imagine the car seat to be more comfortable than a bed. And frankly, all of them were in a dire need of a shower. Peter turned off the car radio and turned to the back, gently tapping on Marcus's arm and making an internal note to change the bandage as soon as possible.
Marcus opened his eyes and gave Peter a sleepy smile, then grimaced as his body became aware of the cramped position he was in and the weight of Tomas's head on his legs. He also wasn't looking forward to moving.
"Darling, we are home," Peter said and winked and it was such a normal thing to do that Marcus couldn't help the snort. Which in exchange made his body shake with laughter and Tomas grunted, protesting at the sudden movement.
"Ah, do you want to wake up the sleeping beauty or shall we just carry him inside?"
"As much as I enjoy seeing Tomas drooling on you, I doubt either of us is physically capable of carrying him right now."
Marcus had to admit Peter was right, so he gently shook Tomas's shoulder.
"Rise and shine, Tomas," he said, running his fingers through the thick dark hair, pausing over the bruise on the forehead.
Tomas scrunched up his face and with another groan and a mutter of something eerily similar to a curse he finally opened his eyes. Then blinked, clearly confused.
"Marcus?" There was surprise in his eyes and it sent instant worry through Marcus, but he schooled his features.
"Yeah, who else would it be? I know I don't look my best, but try to look less horrified. It's hurting my feelings."
"Huh?" Tomas blinked, then his eyes swept around, making out the interior of the car and finally noting Peter gazing at him from the front seat.
"What... what's going on?"
Peter and Marcus exchanged a concerned glance, though Peter shook his head, mouthing 'give him a sec' at Marcus.
"We arrived at our destination. Do you... do you remember what happened?"
Marcus didn't know why Tomas shouldn't remember. True, he spent most of the ride asleep, probably a mix of the concussion and the general weakness caused by whatever Tomas did to purge the demon, but the few times he was awake he knew perfectly well what was going on. Especially since each time he kept asking to talk with Olivia.
Tomas closed his eyes and pushed his fists into his eyes, then let out a sigh.
"Yeah," he said finally, sounding much older than his age. "I remember."
Though he definitely looked like he would've preferred to forget and Marcus couldn't fault him for that.
"Okay, guys. I'm sure you've enjoyed the ride, but I'd just about kill to get out of this car and get a decent shower. Ready to get out?"
"Hell yeah," Tomas said, perking up at the mention of shower. The trio left the car, accompanied by the sounds of groans and popping joints. It sounded like a group of old people stretching and it was such a weird thing in the silence that surrounded them that they all started laughing.
Finally upright and standing on his own two feet, albeit swaying a bit, Tomas had a chance to look around. Well, as much as one could look around during the night in the woods, when the only source of light were the stars, moon and the headlights of the car pointed at the door of the cabin.
He wanted to ask a myriad questions, like where exactly were they, who did the cabin belong to. Were they safe here? Or the more mundane ones like did this place even have electricity or were they stuck in the middle ages? But the only thing that made it through his lips was a question about Olivia.
"Did she call?"
"About two hours ago. They finally ditched the tail. Jim switched the cars and they were about to take a wide detour towards us."
"Is it safe for him to drive that long?" Tomas asked with a worried frown while Peter pulled out a large chain of keys and started rifling through them.
"I'm sure Jim knows what he can handle and what not, don't worry," Marcus said.
"I'd still like to call them and speak with Liv," Tomas insisted and Marcus nodded. He knew the kid would be pacing the floor all night if he didn't get a chance to make sure his sister was still alive and unharmed. He didn't fault him, especially not after the news they heard from Luke.
It seemed that during the last twenty four hours a lot had happened in Chicago. Some of the information they gathered from the radio and the news while they were still close enough. About three hours into their drive, when even Marcus got tired of listening to country and Peter changed the channels to the news station, they heard the story about a fire on the southwest of Chicago. One of the warehouses caught fire. It was suspected that the fire was intentional, especially as there was an unconscious man found nearby. At the time of the news there was no word about fatalities, but both Marcus and Peter knew that come morning and the fire was quenched the investigators would find two burnt bodies with bullet holes in them. Marcus just hoped that Luke did a good job at taking care of evidence and that the fire took care of all the rest. It was enough that some people from the church were involved and probably hot on their trail, they really didn't need the cops to be added to the mix.
The more interesting news though they learned only during Jim's last call. He was keeping in touch with Luke and so was informed about the sudden change in investigation. As soon as the police identified the alive but unresponsive man that was left in the car in front of the warehouse, they got the connection to father Simon, who was later found inside the warehouse. What was more interesting though was that a little anonymous bird tipped the cops off identifying the man as someone who was seen at the scene of the mass murder of those families, shortly before they were killed. While of course the police didn't have any hard evidence, this was the best clue they got in quite a time. As the people in the affected community became more and more restless and were staging protests, the police decided to investigate. Father Simon's death led them to the school where they searched the premises. They didn't find much, except a couple of vans used for supplying the school kitchen with groceries and driving the dirty clothes/bed sheets to the cleaner. The vans didn't look all that suspicious, except for the one with the broken tail light and the partial plate number, which was caught on one of the cameras fleeing the scene of murder.
Marcus wasn't sure what transpired next, Luke obviously wasn't privy to all the information and it was still too early. But there was a mention of a request for deeper search permit, and Maria Walters being taken in for interrogation. Marcus was pretty sure that if he turned on the TV in the next few days there would be news about some sick ritual killings. Maybe even theories about the school being used as recruitment center for a cult. Frankly, Marcus didn't care at this point. As long as the school was closed and all the people involved were too busy trying to save their own asses, well, so long Tomas would be a bit safer.
And seeing the kid bickering with Peter about who had dibs on the shower, even if it turned out to be a cold one, made him feel immensely grateful that at least here God decided to step in and give a helping hand. Marcus wasn't sure what made Tomas special or more worthy of help than poor Gabriel, but as long as God knew and was willing to fight with them, Marcus decided not to question it.
