The room was familiar and it took Tomas a second to realize it was his old childhood room, the one he shared with his sister back in Chicago. There was the bunk bed, a heap of Lego blocks waiting to be turned into a house or a rocket, Olivia's favorite posters of Lady and the Trump over the desk... Tomas blinked, confused. He knew this wasn't real, but it felt so real and it was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels, because it meant that instead of getting into Erica's mind, Tomas pulled the demon into his own. Maybe that's why he didn't feel the scratching at the back of his skull any longer... now there was just dullness and a feeling of sickness covering his mind.

Like walking through molasses, Tomas headed towards the door. He heard voices coming from the living room. Slowly he walked through the hall, his eyes pausing at the familiar decor, at a wedding photo of his parents hanging on the wall and a cross right above it. He quickly crossed himself and muttered words of prayer as he stepped inside the living room, where he froze. There, on the old rug in the middle of the room were two children, playing a game of snakes and ladders.

Tomas blinked, then rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. Demons had shown him many strange and sick things, but never an image of himself as a six-year-old boy, with a nest of black hair and a missing front tooth. Tomas was hit with a hazy memory of knocking that tooth out when he fell during a very intense football match in kindergarten. That was just a few days after his parents decided on the divorce and few weeks before he was sent away...

"Hey, no fair! You rolled a four but you jumped six steps!" It was Olivia who protested and grabbed the piece on the board and moved it back.

The boy on the floor yelped in protest and pushed his piece back.

"That was a six! I don't cheat!"

"I can count better than you!" Olivia huffed, crossing her arms on her chest in irritation, while the boy stuck out his tongue at her.

"You can not! I can count to fifty already!"

Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Then you're just a stupid cheater. I'm hungry anyway, I'm not playing anymore." With that, Olivia pushed away the board and jumped up to her feet, heading right towards where Tomas stood, watching the scene. She almost bumped into him, when a small hand clutched at her shirt and stopped her. Tomas blinked, looking at the small version of himself, standing a mere foot from him, looking up at his sister with regret in eyes.

"I'm sorry, Liv. Don't go, please."

Olivia sighed and turned to face her brother.

"I don't wanna play anymore."

"Please, pretty please?" the boy said, his eyes wide and so innocent. Tomas just had to reach out and touch him, to make sure he was real. The moment his fingers brushed the boy's t-shirt however, it was like something passed between them, like getting hit by electrostatic energy. Tomas jerked back his fingers and took a quick step back. The boy froze, his face went lax and he blinked. When his eyes opened there were no brown irises, only milky whiteness.

Olivia screamed and the sound of that scream crashed through Tomas' skull like a hammer. Suddenly he was standing in a white hospital room and looking down at the small boy whose eyes were thankfully closed. He was alone, the beeping of a monitor the only company. There were voices behind the half open door and Tomas recognized the silhouette of his mother talking to someone, probably a doctor. He wanted to go to her, to tell her it was all going to be alright, but he couldn't move. His legs were like jelly as a feeling of weakness crashed over him. This seemed too real... he could smell the typical odor of a disinfectant, could feel the uncomfortable shape of the chair he crashed into. And when he looked at the boy lying on the hospital bed, pale and with his lips moving in silent words, he could almost feel the memory of the starchy blanket under his fingers. Groaning, Tomas leaned forward, resting his head in his palms, unsure what this all meant, or how to end it.

He didn't expect to feel a small hand touching his bowed head and startled, looking wildly into the still white eyes of his younger self. If this was what Marcus saw every time he had a vision, no wonder it scared him. It scared Tomas too.

"Is this real?" he asked with a choked voice.

"She will leave you," the boy spoke in a voice that wasn't his own, knowingly, and Tomas shuddered, the white eyes creeping him out to no end. "She will get rid of you like the weakest piece of the litter, because you aren't good enough. You never were and never will be."

"No!" Tomas said forcefully, wanting to shake his younger self out of this stupor, pull himself back to reality. Anything just to stop what was happening. But all he could do was watch as the boy smirked slyly at him then suddenly arched his back as tremors shook his body. The beeping turned into a wail and Tomas found himself back in the corner of the room as people rushed in, trying to help the boy.

"Dios mio, this is not real, make this stop," he prayed, as he watched the boy arching on the bed, legs and arms stretched into unnatural positions as the doctor injected something into his IV. Suddenly the fit stopped and the boy fell back into bed, limp and boneless. Tomas' mother was crying at the foot of the bed while the nurse was trying to rush her out. The doctor was checking the monitors and no one seemed to notice that the boy's head turned towards Tomas, eyes open and wide, staring right at him. The deep brown irises were filled with horror over images Tomas now remembered seeing, before the medicine kicked in and the eyes slowly closed.

Tomas didn't realize he was holding his breath, until the beeping of the monitor slowed down and suddenly the room fell almost silent.

"Mrs. Ortega, I'm afraid we will have to do another scan to figure this out." The doctor turned towards his mother, who was holding the now unconscious boy's foot. She startled, looking at the doctor.

"But... my insurance won't cover it. I can't..."

"I understand, Mrs. Ortega, but it is really important that…" the doctor was still speaking, but Tomas couldn't hear him anymore. All he could see was his mother's helpless face, all he could remember were bills coming to their apartment afterwards, days with little to no food or the moving to a one bedroom flat. Memories of waking up in the kitchen in the middle of the night, thirsty and sleepy and Olivia running into him, startled and... scared.

"No, this isn't true, none of this is. It's just a dream, a vision... I need to wake up!" Tomas shook his head and closed his eyes. "Come on, this never happened!" He shouted then doubled over as pain tore through his brain, erasing any logical thought.

Maybe Marcus was right after all. Letting demons inside his mind would surely kill him soon... if he wasn't already dying. He felt like that, leaned over the toilet and trying not to heave as every deeper breath he took sent spikes of pain through his brain, which in turn worsened the nausea. Shaking from feeling cold while his eyes were burning inside his skull also didn't add to his feeling of comfort.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Tomas grimaced.

'Please, not now,' he thought, but didn't say it, couldn't. He was happy his knees were still holding him up, never mind the energy he would need to talk over the sound of thumping inside his skull.

Marcus took the silence as an invite and pushed the door open.

"I told you not to do that," were the first words out of his mouth and Tomas moaned then spat bile into the toilet. There was the sound of the faucet being turned on and then a wet towel was pressed into his hands. Tomas took it and pressed the towel against his face, for a second enjoying the feeling of relief it brought. But it didn't last long and he sat back down on his hunches, casting a pitiful look towards Marcus. Marcus, who was standing in the door with his arms crossed, looking strangely angry and disinterested at the same time. Tomas blinked, feeling guilt crawling into his stomach, along with shame.

"I'm sorry. I know it was stupid, I just..."

"You just lost control, as always. You never think things through, do you?" The disinterest was gone and all Tomas saw on Marcus' face was anger and disappointment.

"Marcus?" Tomas pleaded, not even sure for what.

"I thought those six months with Mouse would have cured you of this," Marcus snorted, then leaned down so he was level with Tomas' shaking form. "I thought Andy's sacrifice would have been enough," Marcus said coldly and Tomas froze, unable to answer.

"What, no smart come back? No explanation?" Marcus smirked, but it wasn't a nice smirk. "I should have expected that. I don't know why I even bothered coming back. Once a failure..." He gave Tomas a look of disdain "...always a failure." With that he stood up and shook his head, looking down at Tomas as someone would on a cockroach.

"Stay here like the weakling you are. I'll call Mouse. At least she knows what she's doing. God knows you don't." With these parting words, Marcus turned on his heels. Tomas reached out pleadingly, panic overwhelming his thoughts as Marcus stepped out of his reach and vanished down the hall.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. Everything around him was swirling and for a moment Tomas thought he was dying and he welcomed that thought, because what was left? His sister and nephew were safer as far away from him as possible. Marcus... Marcus just left him and when he tells Mouse what a failure he is, she will surely denounce him as well. There was nothing left, only pain and weakness. Tomas didn't want to feel that anymore.

"Marcus!" he called out with the last of his strength and crumpled down onto the cold floor. He was listening for the returning steps, but all he heard was laughter.

"Por favor," Tomas muttered, not sure what he was even asking for anymore. There was no reply, but somewhere in the distance, muted and barely audible, he could make out a familiar voice.

"Tomas, please! Wake up!"

Tomas felt his breath catch as he recognized Marcus. But... it couldn't have been him... Marcus was just down the hall and this voice sounded as if it was coming from the opposite direction. Raising his head, Tomas looked around himself. The bathroom he was in wasn't the one in Erica's house... and he just now noticed the bath tub and the string of bloody hair that belonged to a long dead woman. Tomas gasped and crawled away from the bath tub, until his back hit the wall. This wasn't real, he realized. None of this was real, he was trapped inside his own head with a demon, once again.

Tomas grit his teeth, the weakness and despair he felt replaced by hot, burning anger. He let the demon inside and it toyed with him, toyed with his memories and fears. Tomas thought he was over such mistakes, but it seemed the fever messed with his head and he let his guard down. While he should have felt shame for that, he knew it was his fault, all he felt right now was a burning urge to find that bastard demon and turn it into ash for the pain it put him through, for all the fear and doubt.

Tomas found that anger was a strong motivator. It flowed through his veins and got him back to his feet. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the real Marcus calling for all the saints and performing the exorcism, just like many times before, but right now Tomas felt every word pouring strength into his own body. He stepped out of the bathroom and wasn't even surprised when the hall turned into his childhood home in Chicago. The demon wanted to play, Tomas was ready to play. He walked through the rooms of his home, familiar words of prayer falling easily from his mouth as his eyes caught sight of a dark shadow lurking behind a corner.

'Begone, now! Begone, seducer! Your place is in solitude; your abode is in the nest of serpents; get down and crawl with them.'

The shadow jerked, the silhouette contorting into seemingly impossible poses. Tomas took a step closer, brandishing his cross and rosary as Mouse would a gun, and his voice grew in strength, fed by Marcus' voice coming from the other side.

'This matter brooks no delay; for see, the Lord, the ruler comes quickly, kindling fire before Him, and it will run on ahead of Him and encompass His enemies in flames.' Tomas could feel the heat that was consuming his own body, but pressed on, encouraged by the fact that the shadow was trying to slither away from him. 'You might delude man, but God you cannot mock. It is He who casts you out, from whose sight nothing is hidden. It is He who repels you, to whose might all things are subject.'

Tomas suddenly felt as if the heat from his body spread, the temperature of the room spiked and there were sparks in the air. It was almost hypnotizing, but he didn't allow it to break his focus. The demon in front of him started whimpering and cowering and Tomas knew it was time to end this. He stepped right up to the creature on the floor and pushed his cross onto its forehead, putting all his strength into the last words.

'It is He who expels you, He who has prepared everlasting hellfire for you and your angels, from whose mouth shall come a sharp sword, who is coming to judge both the living and the dead and the world by fire!'

The sparks in the air burst into flames, the demon screeched and the last thing Tomas saw was a wall of fire engulfing everything.