Hello, everyone. So, this is the longest chapter I've written in quite some time and a big event occurs in it. I really do hope everyone is enjoying the story and that I haven't marred the plot in any form or fashion. I think I've mentioned this in a previous author's note but just in case: I did look over my notes for this fic and talked with my best friend, who came up with the original idea for the fic in the first place, and I realized that there is still some stuff to write. So, this chapter isn't the end. Now that I've covered that, it is time for the ever-so-entertaining disclaimer! I do not own Welcome to Hell in any way. That honor belongs to the talented Erica Wester. As I just mentioned, the original idea for this fic was my best friends's and she was kind enough to let me turn it into this little angsty mess. All the original characters and the furthering of the plot are my creations. As always, I hope you all enjoy the chappie!
By the time Caius returned with Jonathan, the three elder entities were all but sweating with the exertion of keeping the Cataclysm contained. Bas looked up, panting softly.
"Is this the mortal boy Mephistopheles spoke of?" He asked hoarsely. Caius only nodded in response before giving Jonathan a strangely gentle shove toward the circle.
Mephistopheles looked up after Bas had spoken and couldn't help the cry of despair that escaped his lips once he looked at Jon. There was no other word for it. Jonathan Combs looked like absolute shit. The teenager was pale, skin almost translucent. Mephistopheles was trying to pretend that the visibility of Jon's bones was only a trick of the light or one of a tired mind. Jon was shaking and had been using Caius as support until the demon had gently shoved him toward the main exorcism. He looked nauseas and exhausted. Jonathan Combs had only been in Hell for ten minutes at the most, and he looked like he'd been afflicted with the stomach flu for the past two weeks.
"Mephistopheles?" Bal sounded impatient, almost frightened, though Mephistopheles couldn't imagine that his older brother knew the meaning of the word. "Caius has gone. Is this the boy you were speaking of or not? We do not have much time left."
Mephistopheles snapped out of his funk and turned to look at Bal. "I apologize, Bal. The boy's appearance surprised me. This is Jonathan Combs."
Said boy stumbled toward Sock, a look of horror intermingingly with the other negative emotions on his face.
"What happened to him?" Jon whispered, putting a hand over his mouth as if further nauseated by the sight before him. "How did it get this bad? I only just saw him!"
Bas looked at the young mortal sympathetically. "I am afraid our youngest brother has made some mistakes that have led to grave mistakes." He nodded toward Mephistopheles, and Jonathan turned slowly toward the Devil.
"This is your fault, and you want me to help fix it? You want me to help clean up your mess?" Jon screeched, translucent cheeks flushed with hectic red spots.
Mephistopheles couldn't help but reel back from the sudden outburst. He hadn't expected Jon to know that he, Mephistopheles, had played a role in Sock's situation, let alone scream at him for his actions. Saol squeezed his hand, not bothering to be gentle. In fact, Mephistopheles was quite sure his older brother had meant to hurt him. The pain had one good consequence, though: Mephistopheles could now think clearly. He took a deep breath and focused his attention on Jonathan Combs.
"Jonathan, I know you're upset, and that's more than understandable. I deserve your anger and much more, but right now, we really do need your help. If we can't complete the exorcism, the Cataclysm will destroy everything, including Sock. We don't have much time left. Will you help us? Please?"
Jonathan turned his attention to Bas and then Saol, eyes narrowing. Did they have a hand in Sock's misery as well? Seeing the looks of irritation and anger on their face, he suspected that that wasn't the case. They were just as upset with Mephistopheles as he was.
"Fine, but I am going to have your fucking head for this, Mephistopheles. Sock told me you were under a lot of stress, what with the remodeling of Hell and all, but I don't know what fucking game you thought you were playing at. I hope your reasoning was worth it because now we're all fucked. You hear me, Mephistopheles? We are all fucked!"
Mephistopheles was under too much pressure to be upset about this mortal pup's insolence and threats. Besides, everything he was saying was true, even though he was conveying the message in the way that only angry teenagers can, with loud voices and lots of cursing.
"We have no more time for discussion. Please come forward, Jonathan Combs." Saol commanded and was pleased to find that Jonathan was more than willing to comply. "Say the young spirit's name."
Jonathan couldn't help it. He knelt down besides Sock, tears appearing in his grey eyes. "Sock, please, please don't give in. You are stronger than this beast. You still have a job to do." Choking back his sob, he took the little poltergiest's hand, ignoring the wave of pain that swept over him when he did so. "I'm still here. Don't leave me to deal with life on my own."
Saol, Bas, and Mephistopheles were staring. The mortal child was holding the hand of a possessed poltergeist and had yet to burst into flames. It was obvious that he was in pain but not as much as he should have been in. As they continued to watch, eyes growing wider, Sock opened one green, pain-filled eye, trying to focus on Jonathan.
"Jon…Jonathan…Don't let it take me…I want to go back with you…"
Jonathan squeezed Sock's hands, tears trailing down his pale cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere, Sock. You're gonna get better, and we're gonna go home."
The three elder entities took this as their cue and began to chant once more. The Cataclysm was now tossing itself about in confusion rather than anger and spite. Mephistopheles took this as a good sign. If he and his brothers could keep the Cataclysm confused, they had a fairly decent chance of destroying it.
Jonathan slumped forward, still holding onto Sock's hand. He felt awful, like he had suddenly been afflicted by every disease known to man and demon. He wanted to vomit up blood and organs, watch as his life dwindled away, but he wouldn't allow himself that luxury just yet. Sock still needed his help.
The small poltergeist in question was gazing at the man he loved, watching as he died in order to save him. He could see how badly Jon wanted to give in, to let the effects of Hell and the anger of the Cataclysm destroy him physically and mentally. But he was doing his best to stay strong for Sock, and what was Sock doing? Sock was giving in to what the Cataclysm wanted. A wave of anger roared through the tiny spirit, causing the Cataclysm, for lack of a better word, to flinch. Sock bared his teeth, green eyes narrowing into nothing more than slits, and arched his back, trying to force the Cataclysm out. This startled the Cataclysm, almost frightening the dark mass. Mephistopheles and his brothers took this as their opportunity to once begin chanting, hoping that the fright of the Cataclysm would increase their chances of getting rid of the damn thing.
As the exorcism progressed, Jon couldn't help but whimper. He knew the Cataclysm was losing this war and that he would soon have the sweet little ball of awkward that was Sock back in his arms, but he was feeling worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. Now, instead of being entirely worried about Sock, he was beginning to fear that he wouldn't be strong enough to hold the love of his life in his arms, that he would die before he got to see Sock smile in relief as the Cataclysm was eradicated. As soon as he became consciously aware of this thought, he began to panic and fight against the illnesses and diseases that the very walls of Hell itself was trying to shove down his pale throat.
For a moment, the Cataclysm was relieved. The creature known as Sock was no longer panicked, fearful, and sad. Therefore, the Cataclysm would not be able to continue the possession for long. However, when Jonathan Combs, the mortal boy that the three entities were relying on as their savior, had begun to feel fearful, the Cataclysm had started to feel strong once again and would have smirked if it had been able to do so. But mere seconds later, the mortal child began to fight the fear and panic off and returned his focus to the creature known as Sock. The Cataclysm let out a howl of fury. This was not how this was meant to go! Nothing should have been able to compete with the power of the Cataclysm and yet the Cataclysm could feel its form melting away. It flinched away as if acid were being poured onto its trembling black mass of a body, much like acid was said to be constantly dripping on the God Loki. The Cataclysm knew it had lost, but it was also determined to leave the five creatures surrounding it with memories that would haunt them for years to come. It opened what served as its mouth and let out an ear-piercing, blood-curdling howl, forcing detailed images of long ago wars and historical torture chambers into the minds of the creatures that had dared go up against its power, before exploding in a cloud of black dust.
Mephistopheles and his brothers were thrown backwards, each hitting a different wall. Jonathan managed to keep his hold on Sock's hand, but a howl of agony was ripped from his throat as the dust particles settled on his bare skin. Sock seemed to have fared the worst, however. He was curled up on his side, clutching Jon's hand like it was a lifeline and maybe it was at that point. He was shivering violently, and his green eyes darted around the room in terror, as if he expected the Cataclysm to suddenly reassemble itself and hurt him again. Whimpering, he clung to Jonathan, reaching out with his other hand to gently stroke the gray-eyed boy's cheek.
"Jonathan, I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you today and I didn't mean to hurt you the last time I saw you." He managed to say in a hoarse voice, tears appearing in his eyes.
Jon smiled weakly and returned the gesture with his free hand, carefully caressing the tiny spirit's cheek. "Don't be stupid, Sock. I knew that wasn't you." Before the touching moment could continue, Mephistopheles appeared behind Jonathan, holding his side and wincing.
"Jonathan, I appreciate your help. We all do." He said softly, gesturing behind him to where his brothers were standing and dusting themselves off. It appeared they hadn't been hurt by the Cataclysm's final act. "And I know we have a lot to talk about, but you need to get out of here before the disease is a permanent part of your body. Sock will be going with you."
Sock stared at the orange-haired man, eyes widening hopefully. "Really?"
Mephistopheles chuckled weakly. "Well, you don't want to stay here with me, do you?"
Jonathan smiled at the Devil and shakily got to his feet, reluctantly letting go of Sock's hand to do this. He was still livid with Mephistopheles, but he would accept this gift for now. Besides, he really did feel like crap. Sock carefully got up and wrapped his arm around the mortal boy's waist. Mephistopheles smiled at the sight before him, hating himself for causing so much grief and havoc for the young couple standing before him and for every universe that the Lord had created. He was the definition of a royal fuck up. He closed his eyes, more to hide the tears appearing in his eyes than to help him with the spell he was about to use. With a wave of his hand, the two boys disappeared, returning to the Comb residence. It was over. For now.
As always, I hope everyone enjoyed the chappie! Constructive criticism, reviews, and the like are always appreciated, but flat-out negativity is not appreciated and will not be acknowledged. See you soon!
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