Ah, sweet, sweet mystery. Other than the usual, I have one new announcement. I have set up an updating and writing schedule for this story. This story will be updated every Sunday, and I will, without fail, write a chapter every Tuesday and Thursday. So, hopefully chapters start coming out more quickly. As per usual, thank you to my beta for looking this over and offering suggestions. "Welcome to Hell" belongs to Erica Wester. I only take credit for my ideas. Without further ado, please enjoy the chappie!

Jonathan had once again locked his bedroom door and was currently ignoring his parents, who were pleading with him to come out and at least play a board game or something. Jonathan had other things in mind and had asked to be alone while he worked on his homework. He'd been ignoring them ever since.

Sock, or what had once been Sock, was still floating above the bed, gazing at Jonathan. The blonde wasn't sure how to exactly describe the little spirit; the only word that came to mind was "illness". Sock had gotten sick somehow.

The little ghost tilted his head, causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. "What are you thinking about? You're obviously not doing your homework."

Jonathan blushed slightly, grateful that Sock didn't have the ability to read minds like Caius did. "I was just…Sock, are you okay?"

"Okay? Why wouldn't I be?" Sock questioned. Jonathan noticed that the aura around the DNA helix that Sock sometimes shifted into darkened. He, or it, was upset.

"I'm not sure. It feels like you aren't well…"

"I feel fine, Jonathan. I thought we agreed to not dwell on the negativity of the past? Why don't we have an American Horror Story marathon? I know another season has come out."

"Yeah, that sounds good. I want to hear your opinion on this season's demons."

Sock smiled, causing the helix shape to almost disappear completely. However, it quickly returned, and it seemed to feel…threatened…Before he could dwell too much on this, Jonathan grabbed his laptop and logged into Netflix. Getting on the bed, he leaned against his pillows and started the first episode of season six. Sock moved until he was curled up in Jonathan's side.

Though neither boy noticed it, the helix shape completely disappeared once the episode started.

äääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääää

"You fired me?!"

Mephistopheles whined, covering his ears to drown out Caius's screeching. Keeping his ears covered, Mephistopheles watched as Caius had what could only be described as a temper tantrum. He was kicking furniture, jumping up and down, and screaming like a toddler. Once he was sure Caius had exhausted himself, Mephistopheles lowered his hands and raised an eyebrow. "Are you done?"

"I suppose so." Caius muttered, crossing his arms and sulking.

"Good. Now before you throw another fit, let me explain. I did not fire you. I made a deal with Sock; he has twenty-fours to spend with Jonathan. After that, he returns to the Ninth Circle, and you return to your post. Do you understand now?"

Caius nodded, though he still looked displeased. "So, my duties are being set aside so you can do a favor for that imp?"

Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow and growled in warning. Caius looked away, still sulking.

"I highly doubt that my reasoning is your business, Caius. That may change when we marry, but as of right now, you have no right to question me."

At the mention of the wedding, Caius looked back at Mephistopheles, face lighting up. He had been hoping that Mephistopheles would want to discuss wedding plans. It certainly would distract him from this latest betrayal.

"Speaking of the wedding, should we not begin planning?"

Glad that the conversation had changed from Sock to wedding plans, Mephistopheles nodded and gestured for Caius to come closer to the desk. Though he had no desire to plan a wedding now, he wanted to talk about Sock even less.

äääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääää

Sock had no desire to talk about Mephistopheles either. Every time Jon tried to bring the fallen angel up in conversation, Sock would quickly steer it away. He didn't want to focus on the Devil and his deals; he wanted to spend what little time he had left with Jonathan happy.

Jonathan, knowing how stubborn Sock could be, decided that the conversation would be best steered toward trivial matters. It was clear that he wasn't going to get a straight answer from the little ghost, so Jonathan decided on a less conventional approach.

While Sock jabbered on about this and that, Jonathan focused on the little spirit's appearance. It didn't seem like Sock was able to sense the DNA helix shape. The helix, however, seemed perfectly capable of sensing Sock. It almost seemed to change with Sock's mood. Whenever Jonathan brought up Mephistopheles, the helix shape darkened, becoming more opaque. In fact, it almost felt like, the more upset Sock became, the less control he had over the actions of the helix.

What would happen if he brought up the shape? As soon as he'd had the thought, he felt instantly fearful. Instinctively, he knew if he asked Sock about the helix shape, something terrible would happen.

It seemed observation and research was the best way to go.

äääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääääää

Mephistopheles gazed at the floating sphere, ignoring the flickers of purple and gold light that sparked off the Sybil. A round glass sphere that floated about five feet off the ground, the Sybil had limited yet extremely helpful powers. Capable of peering several days into the future as well as into the present, the Sybil had allowed Mephistopheles to make many a difficult decision; it also allowed him to keep an eye on his friends and enemies. As of right now, the Sybil was allowing Mephistopheles to watch Sock's visit with Jonathan.

Sock was getting worse; it seemed sending Sock to Jonathan hadn't been the wisest decision. The Cataclysm did not like Jonathan or, at the very least, didn't like Jonathan seeking answers. Each time Jonathan brought up something that wasn't related to trivial and meaningless conversation, the Cataclysm growled and took more control over Sock.

"It seems we're feeling a little feisty, yeah?" Mephistopheles murmured, rubbing his chin in thought. It appeared he was running out of options. If the Cataclysm wasn't distracted by a Being of Light, there was very little Mephistopheles could do to remove the creature. He ran a hand through his orange hair, letting out a frustrated groan. He didn't know what to do, and he was running out of time.

Continuing to watch the Sybil, Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow. Jonathan was studying Sock intently, a worried look on his pale face. As Mephistopheles watched, Jonathan bit his lip, clearly afraid. Sock, distracted and weak, did not notice.

'He can see the Cataclysm.' Mephistopheles thought, eyes lighting up. It appeared there was a chance at ending the problem before it really began.

Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter! As usual, suggestions, constructive criticism, and the like are appreciated. Flat-out negativity is not. See you guys next time!

XOXOXOXO