Hey dudes. It's me again! Been a long time, huh? Well, I'm back again. Life's been a wild-ass ride, but I come bearing a new chapter for y'all. You miss me? I missed you.
I gotta' say, I ain't real happy with this one, but that could very well be me being too critical. We are our own worst critics, after all. Let me know what you guys think!
As always, shoutout to Snow_Punk over on AO3 for beta-reading. Much appreciated, my friend.

If you like Helltaker, go check out his stories. They are better than mine by a country mile, I assure you.

Also, a content warning. This chapter contains the use of a homophobic slur, though not in referendum to any person or character. It will be explained in the chapter, don't worry.


Addiction was a disease. One Ollie knew firsthand. He had plenty of experience with it through seeing it affect his parents, and plenty through his own struggles.

Now some things were easy to kick. Some were harder than others. He hadn't put his hands on any Devil's Kale in a good while, and that was something he was proud of.

Cigarettes and booze though? That wasn't so easy. He was shaky, irritable, and he was sweating like a whore in church. 'I don't need it.' Was the phrase most repeated in his thoughts the last two days. Most of those two days were spent in his room watching TV and stuffing his face with junk food. His hair was unkempt and his face was dusted with thin stubble, laden with crumbs of chips and other salty snacks.

It was on the third day he felt better. Not much, but enough to emerge from his cave. Granted he still looked greasy in his tank top and sweat shorts, but at least he brushed the crumbs off himself before he stumbled downstairs.

"Well shit, he isn't dead." Zdrada muses, Modeus slapping $40 into the Bitch Demon's palm looking disappointed.

"I guess I won't be having my way with him." She sighs, pulling her jacket closed as she shrinks in on herself.

Ollie can only bring himself to sneer. "If you fuck my corpse, I'll haunt you until you punch your own ticket." He deadpans, snatching the jug of orange juice from the counter and drinking straight from the container. "...If Malina doesn't rip you apart first." The second part is said below his breath.

"Oh, lighten up gimpy. It was a joke!" Zdrada guffaws, ashes from her cigarette falling onto the sofa and leaving dark smears across it.

"I wasn't joking. I'm glad you're alive though." Modeus mumbles, turning to Zdrada. "You were joking?"

"Suck a dick and die on it." He huffs, flipping her the bird as he ambles off to the backyard where Azazel sits bundled up in her white jacket. He swears he can hear Modeus say "Gladly." On his way through the door.

"Oh, Ollie! How are you feeling?" She inquires, looking up from her notepad for a moment before returning her gaze to it. She scribbles away at it furiously. Her handwriting is illegible. That, or she's writing in some kind of holy language.

"Same shit, different stink." He grumbles, unbothered by the stinging cold cutting him to the bone.

"Language."

He scrunches up his face in a brief moment of frustration before chuckling. "Sorry."

"It's alright! What are you up to today?" She chirps, seeming cheery as ever. The façade is imperfect, her eyes carrying heavy bags beneath them.

"Dunno. Just got outta bed." Ollie sighs, leaning back and cracking his spine like a glowstick. "Ngh- Ch-rist."

"Don't-" Azazel begins to speak, cutting herself short.

"Hm? Sorry..." He hums, an awkward mood clinging in the air. "I know all this shit's been hard on ya."

She chuckles, but her voice holds no mirth.

"Okay. Maybe more than a bit."

And so, they sit in silence. The only sound being the subtle whistle of the wind billowing through the yard. "How do you do it Ollie?" Azazel breaks the peace.

Perplexed, he looks to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He feels a twinge in his hand, not yet fully recovered from the crash. "Do... what?"

"Keep on going?" She chokes up, eyes getting red and watery. They threaten to spill.

"I dunno." He admits. "I just keep kinda hangin' on. I got mostly good people around me. I got you, Malina, uncle, y'know? I been through some hard knocks. It ain't nothin' new." He shrugs, giving her a gentle pat. "I could give you advice. 'M not terribly inclined to though."

She quirks her brow, looking hurt. "Why?" Her voice quivers.

"Cause the kinda' shit that works for me probably won't work for you. We're different people." He offers a long look at her. His heart pities the poor angel, even if he knows she doesn't really need it. "Besides, the way I usually dealt with shit was getting blind drunk. And I'd rather not put you onto any bad habits."

He stands, stumbling off the bench of the picnic table and offering his hand. "But I guess we can try to find something else that might help." She takes the offered hand, following Ollie as he pulls her inside and up the stairs. They pass Zdrada and Modeus, but decide not to dignify their obnoxious remarks with any sort of response. Finally, they enter Ollie's room. "Right. So, besides drinking you know what I like to do to blow off steam? Play music. But since I can't..." He trails off, connecting his phone to the speaker screwed to a mount on the wall.

He drops his ass on the cot, prompting a creak from the poor frame. He pats the rickety old thing, offering a seat beside him which Azazel takes.

'Tell me, can you save me? I think I've fallen sick.
I have grown to be so angry, and I just can't call it quits

Tell me I'm not crazy, and we all feel like this.
I've been so down here lately. Tell me I'm just pitchin' fits.

'Cause it's a long and hurtful phase. And I don't know if I belong here at all.
But when I'm here with you, I don't mind at all.
I don't mind at all.'

Ollie sways back and forth to the melody, his eyes wide shut as his expression grows somber. She leans against him, pulling her jacket around her as she begins to sway with him.

'So tell me I'm still breathing, I'm gonna' be okay.
Tell me you're still here and you won't ever go away.

Tell me I'm not dying, just need to get some rest.
And tell me all this trying will pay off in the end.

'Cause it's a long and hurtful phase, and I don't know if I belong here at all.
But when I'm here with you, I don't mind at all.
I don't mind at all.'

Tears begin to run down Azazel's face, leaving streaks down her cheeks where they fell. Ollie draws a deep, shaky breath as she leans her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. His hand traces circles along her back.

'Tell me all these things that I cannot tell myself.
Tell me you don't think that I need to get some help.

Tell me that you love me, just tell me one more time?
Tell me that I'm dreaming.
Just open up my eyes.

'Cause it's a long and hurtful phase, and I don't know if I belong here at all.
But when I'm here with you, I don't mind at all.
I don't mind at all.

Oh, when I'm here with you, I don't mind at all.
I don't mind at all.'

Azazel's arms snake their way around Ollie as she digs her head into the crook of his neck. He feels hot tears run down his neck into his shirt as Azazel is racked with sobs. Ugly sobs muffled by Ollie's skin. Her fingers dig into his back as if she were clinging onto him for dear life. She isn't just crying, she's screaming. Out of sadness, or frustration? He didn't know. Didn't need to know, not now. Maybe it was out of righteous indignation for what Heaven did? Either way, the sound breaks his heart just a bit more.

"Look, Azzy..." He parts their embrace and tilts her gaze upwards at him. "I just want you to know that I don't blame ya' for what happened to me, okay? I know you been puttin' that shit on yourself, and I know Malina ain't been much better. I been tryna tell her your... situation is more important. I promise, we're all here for you, in our own ways."

"Don't say that, Ollie..." She jerks her head away, looking at the floor. "Don't act like your recovery isn't important."

"I didn't." He huffs, shuffling through a pile of clothes on the floor. "I said you losing your status as an Angel was more important. And it is. One human being gets hurt? Doesn't matter that much. An Angel falling from Heaven? The implications are much bigger in the grand scheme of things." He lifts a woodland-patterned coat out of the mound of dirty laundry. M81-pattern, specifically.

"Not to us!" She almost shouts, standing as she paces about the small room. "You're-"

"Azzy." He cuts her off before she carries on. "I'm not saying I'm unimportant. Do I care that much for my own health? Evidently not, no. But I know you guys do, so I'm making an effort. But when I say you're more important, I'm not just talking about you. I meant like, the royal you. Angels. Yes, it's important that you as a person are going through a pretty big change in your life, and that's a way bigger deal than me smoking or recovering from an accident. But even as someone who knows jack-shit about how Heaven and Hell, I can tell that Heaven might not be too keen on letting Demons chill on Earth. Especially since they corrupted an Angel." He explains, carefully lifting his arms to slide the jacket on. The pins on the pocket and collar glitter in the dim light.

"H-Heaven wouldn't possibly force them out! Not at the risk of putting you and Mr. Taker in danger!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. They threw you at me at Mach 10. They're the ones who crippled me. They coulda' dropped you 10 feet in front of me or teleported you back down to Earth! But nope, they decided to aim directly at me. And I didn't even do anything! When you're as powerful as Heaven is, doing that shit to someone is a choice."

"Maybe it was an accident! They wouldn't do that on purpose!" Azazel insists. Ollie is dumbstruck. Why does she defend them? After what they did to her?

"Like that makes it any better! What, they send 130 pounds of person hurtling down to Earth and they don't even check to make sure they aren't gonna kill anyone? They don't give enough of a shit to make sure it's safe? And what if they threw you somewhere more dangerous? Like a crowd of people, or into traffic? They almost killed me- no! They almost killed us!" Ollie raves, awestruck at Azazel's vehement defense of Heaven. "Why are you even defending them?"

"They're my family, Ollie." She hisses. Her once bright blue eyes narrowed as she clenches her fists at her sides.

"Why? Cause you came from there? Cause you were an Angel, once?"

"Yes! Heaven is all I've known, ever since I spawned!" She shouts, stomping closer to him.

"And look how easily they threw you out! Like you didn't even matter!" He challenges her, leaning in. Their faces are separated by a hair's breadth as they glare at one another.

"They had no other choice!"

"Bull. Shit!" Ollie's voice becomes a growl. "A family isn't who you're born with! A family loves each other, no matter what."

"Don't give me that! What do you know anyways?"

His eyebrows raise in disbelief. Pure, unadulterated anger flashes across his face. "What would I know? What would I KNOW?!" He seethes, turning away from her. He pulls his shorts down and tugs his boxers to the side just a bit. Azazel squawks in embarrassment and shock, covering her eyes as he turns around. "Look. LOOK!"

Fearfully, her fingers part to peek at him. His hand rests next to an ugly scar running along his hip. It's old and faded, yet jagged and the skin is thin and poorly-healed. "What... is that? What did that?"

He glares at her through his eyebrows, breathing heavy through his nostrils as though he were desperately out of breath. "'Family.'" He spits. The word leaves a sour taste on his tongue. "My mom used to beat the piss outta me until I fucking passed out or she got bored. Broke my hip once. They took me to the hospital the next day. Moment I got out she just kept fucking hittin' me." His voice progressively gets calmer as he recalls the tale. Hurriedly, he covers himself back up. "But that doesn't matter now. My point is that 'Family' isn't the people you're born to. They can be complete pieces of shit. Evil. Family is the people you love, who love you back. And we love you Azzy. To Hell with Heaven. We're your fucking family."

"What about Zdrada? Did you forget what happened when you arrived? What's the difference between what your mother did and what Zdrada did?" Azazel reasons. Her point gives Ollie pause, and he needs a moment to think about it.

"...We were strangers at that point. You guys are under no obligation to like me. Let alone love me. My mother- my parents were. But they hurt me habitually. Constantly. Zdrada doesn't. We're... cool now." He mutters, the lingering flame of indignation and anger rapidly extinguishing as he tries to justify Zdrada's actions. He's not quite sure why he does.

"It's just..." She withers, crossing her arms defensively. Her darkened, sleepless eyes peering at the creaky wooden floor. "I don't know what to do. I don't know who I am, Ollie. I've always been Azazel the Angel. Now I'm... I don't know who I am."

"You're Azazel. Maybe Azazel the Demon. Maybe not even Azazel. Hell, maybe you'll choose a different name." He shrugs, ruffling her hair and resting his chin atop her head. "But you're you. Don't ever forget that. Don't change."

"Thank you, Ollie, I... thank you. I'll just leave you alone for now. Thank you." She mutters hurriedly, inching toward the door. She doesn't know what to say. If there is anything to say at all.

"Ah-ah-ah!" Ollie grabs her shoulder. "You uh, ya' wanna go into town with me after I change? Maybe it's good if we get outta the house and do somethin' today?"

Azazel takes a minute to ponder the offer, unsure if being around Ollie would be a good idea after the spat they just had.

"Hey, come on. I'll buy you ice cream? Maybe a new journal to write in?" He offers, waving his eyebrows. He manages to pry a small giggle from her.

"Okay, okay. I'll go." She agrees, leaving him to change. "Thanks again, Ollie."

"Always welcome." He mutters. Though she is already halfway down the stairs and out of earshot, he feels the need to say it regardless. He's not sure why.

…...

Malina ended up tagging along.

Of course she did.

Don't get him wrong, he might sound like he doesn't want her there. That couldn't be farther from the truth. But the tension in the van is so thick you could cut it.

Of course, when she found out Ollie and Azazel were going out by themselves, she insisted she come with. She seemed pretty pissed that Ollie didn't invite her, and even more pissed that he invited Azzy.

After about a solid 5 minutes of her glaring a hole in his forehead, she grabbed her phone, tightened her tie, and stormed out the door. She muttered something about "Leaving him alone with that bitch.", but Ollie did his best to ignore it.

Of course, it's hard to ignore it when Malina snaps at Azazel for every word that leaves her mouth. Or at the very least, begins to seethe quietly.

Thankfully, she managed to stay quiet long enough for them to get to their destination: the strip mall, halfway between the house and town. The same one he had bought the jacket for Azazel from. It had a few small businesses. The only ones that really interested Ollie was the clothes store, and the phone place at the end. Mostly because the EMTs had to slice through his jacket to render aid, and his phone was shattered. Not that he used his phone that much, he didn't have anyone to chat with that wasn't within 30 feet of him, but it was better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

Thankfully, uncle had given him $500 for a new phone. Where the money came from, he didn't know. Didn't plan on dwelling on it either, matter of fact.

"Soo... which first..." He wonders aloud, hoping to Lucy that him speaking wouldn't spark another argument. He's lucky this time.

"Clothes store first. Sooner we're done, the sooner we can go look at games." Malina practically orders. Neither Ollie nor Azazel see fit to respond. All the better. His patience might last until the end of his trip.

Not a moment after they enter the store, they split up and begin browsing. Malina busies herself looking at bras, panties, lingerie, etc. Given that it was a thrift store, there wasn't many options. Matter of fact, Ollie wasn't sure why you would want underwear from a thrift shop... let alone lingerie. But Ollie wasn't about to try and tell Malina what not to do.

There was no way that'd go well.

Thankfully, she wanders off to the Men's hoodies, once she lays eyes on a particularly disgusting pair which bear anomalous stains and tears. Crisis averted.

Azazel had ambled off to the women's pants section, rifling through the jeans of the rack.

He had spent a few minutes ambling around the Men's section, unable to make his mind up. Eventually he narrowed his choices down to two separate options. One was a tan work jacket, lined with fuzzy white sherpa. It'd be sure to keep him nice and toasty, that was for sure.

On the other hand, there was a brown leather jacket. Not much in the way of insulation, surely. However, it reminded him vaguely of a piece of clothing from a game he had played. One of the few he had played by himself.

Of course, to make this one look like the jacket from the game, he'd have to spray-paint "Pissf****t" on it. And he wasn't sure he wanted to be seen wearing that in public. Or at home. He wasn't sure which was worse.

A shame this jacket isn't black, then he could write "FUCK THE WORLD" on it instead. But then it would be inaccurate, and that'd be a damn shame.

"What're you staring at?" Malina asks. He failed to notice her approach, fully immersed in his indecisive inner thoughts.

"D'ya think I'd get shit for writing 'Pissfaggot' on this jacket?" He motions to the leather jacket. Malina looks taken aback, as if the very sentence that slithers out of his mouth carried the concussive force of a flashbang. "It's from a game." He clarifies, as if that makes it any better.

"What game? It doesn't sound like any game we've played."

"Oh, it's one I played on my own. It's an RPG though, not sure you'd like it."

"Is it funny?"

"I mean yeah, funny as shit. No combat though."

A smile appears on her face. Those have become rarer since Ollie woke up in the hospital. But absence makes the heart fonder, and the sight tugs at Ollie's heart a little more than usual. "I'll bring some non-alcoholic stuff for you. Your room or mine?"

"Eh, my room is a depression nest, but yours is full of bottles..." He mutters, not sure which would be worse. Wallowing in filth, or filth that he's tempted to drink.

"I'll hide them." She promises, tugging at her tie and casting her eyes at the floor. Her smile is replaced with an embarrassed scowl. He finds it no less endearing than the smile.

"It's a plan. What about the jacket though?" He holds

"I mean, everyone will make fun of you, but do you." She shrugs. "Not gonna' keep you warm worth a damn, though."

"Eh, s'what layers are for." He mumbles, taking the jacket from the rack. "...You're gonna clown on me too aren't ya?"

"Tch. What do you think?" She cocks an eyebrow. He can't help but sigh amusedly.

"Right. Dumb question." He chuckles. "I'd flip you off, but you'd probably rip it from my hand, and I can't really afford to lose any more right now." He chuckles. He was trying to take a page from Justice's book. She had made jokes about her blindness here and there, and they said laughter was the best medicine. Maybe if he could take things with a bit of levity and loosen the hell up, it'd make things a bit easier.

No small task for a man of his pure, unadulterated pessimism. But anything was worth a try, right?

"That... wasn't even that funny." Malina's shoulders shake silently as she holds in laughter with her face buried in her palms.

"Hey, I'm new to this 'trauma-humor' shit. Gimme' some time, I'll be a regular Bill Burr."

"Who the Hell is that?"

"Funny bald man."

The rest of their time goes by without much to note. Malina almost buys used lingerie, but Ollie convinces her that maybe that's not a fantastic idea. She's only convinced when he promises to take her lingerie shopping another day. Azazel, or rather Ollie, buys a few pairs of ratty jeans with the rationale that she didn't want to buy nice jeans if she'd end up having to cut a tail hole down the line.

Buying a new phone was a rather boring affair, with Malina and Azazel meandering about the store aimlessly as the employees made their best attempt at upselling. After about three sustained minutes of 'Are you sure you wouldn't like our newest model?' and 'It's only 7 payments of $100!' they finally managed to get the hint. The heated glares from Malina had given them all the proof they needed that Ollie did not in fact want the newest model.

"Man, they really wanted to sell that phone." Ollie muses, shuffling his new jacket onto his shoulders. "Fuck- the lining in this is torn. Think someone in the house can fix it?"

"Modeus sews. She can probably patch it up." Malina responds absent-mindedly, tapping away at her phone.

"Modeus? She has hobbies other than blowing chodes?"

"Indeed! I have seen Miss Modeus at work, she's quite skilled." Azazel confirms, her bag rustling as she pulls out her notepad. She flips through it, showing Ollie a sketch of Modeus sitting on the couch with Uncle's jacket in her hands, complete with notes. The detail is incredible, he could almost mistake it for a photograph. The notes read: 'Miss Modeus displays incredible dexterity and hand-eye coordination. According to her it comes from years of "Fingerbanging." Claims are unproven but likely true. I observed her sewing Taker's suit jacket, mending holes in the sleeves measuring about 6 and 7 inches respectively. Total time of completion: Approx. 5 minutes. Quality was near flawless, appearing as though there was no damage to the garment to begin with.'

"Man, this reads like Modeus is an SCP." He mutters. "Well, I guess she would be an SCP. Either way, I guess I'll have to ask her to sew this thing up, I just hope she won't try to fuck me."

"She will." Malina deadpans.

"Yeah, I know." He sighs. "A man can dream, though." He takes Azazel's bags, tossing them into the back with little care. "Alright, still want that ice cream I promised Azzie?"

"Oh, I had forgotten about that, I'd love-!"

"You promised her ice cream?" Malina glowers at the two of them.

"Uhh, yeah? She was in a bad mood earlier, I wanted to cheer her up." Ollie shrugs, confused at why she would be so upset. "What's wrong? You can get ice cream too."

"She almost fucking killed you and you're buying her ice cream? You already bought her pants! Didn't buy me anything though! You didn't promise me any ice cream earlier, maybe I was in a bad mood!" Malina complains.

"Miss Malina, I told you I was sorry for what happened, but it wasn't my fault!" Azazel defends herself. She begins to fidget with her fingers, lightly kicking the floor.

"What, like I have to buy you anything? Malina, I love you. Really, I do. But do you need new pants? I already told you, I'd buy you ice cream too. And I offered to take you shopping another time, just the two of us."

"My problem isn't that you didn't buy me anything, my problem is her." She hisses, gaze focusing on Azazel.

Azazel can almost feel Malina's glare burning holes in her.

"What did I ever do to you?" Azazel asks, no longer fidgeting nervously.

"You almost took Ollie away from me! And not only that, but now he feels bad for you! He sits around chatting with you, offering to buy you ice cream, but he spends almost no time with me! His girlfriend!"

"Mal, if that's what the issue is I'll gladly spend more time with you. But if you think I'm not gonna comfort my friend when she's going through something life-changing you're wrong. You're the only person who blames Azzie for what happened. I don't blame her, Uncle doesn't blame her, Lucifer, Justice, Modeus, none of them blame her."

"Well, they should!" Malina shouts, stomping her foot. The childishness of the gesture would almost be amusing if it wasn't so aggravating. Now is not the time, nor the place for this.

"Malina, I'll do whatever it takes to make amends. Please, I'm sick of arguing! It helps nobody! Least of all Ollie." Azazel offers.

"Like you would know what's good for him you halo-having goody-two-shoes cu-!" Malina begins to shriek.

"SHUT the FUCK up. PLEASE." Ollie's patience finally wears thin. Too thin to hold up. He grabs his hair in frustration. "I can't fucking listen to this shit anymore! God, I WISH I died so I didn't have to hear anymore of this!" Ollie groans, joking for the most part.

Both Azazel and Malina are hurt by his choice of words, each uttering admonishment to the effect of "Don't say that!" Malina's contains far less profanity than one would expect of her.

"Ey-ey-ey! I wasn't serious! I just- ugh! I can't listen to this motherfucking bickering! Mal, you're acting like a child!"

"No, I'm not! I'm putting her in her place!" Malina complains, her fists tightly clenched and trembling.

"Mal, really! Yer' actin' irrationally! And we're in public. Look, I appreciate that ya' care about me but-"

"No, you are! You refuse to accept the fact that she almost killed you, Ollie! It's her fault she corrupted. She stayed with us, nobody made her! And the worst part is that you still don't SEE that!" Malina retorts, getting in Azazel's face.

Azazel doesn't back down. "He doesn't see it because it's not true! You all corrupted me!"

"Well maybe if you didn't sit around with your mouth open and staring at tits all day like a creep, things wouldn't have ended up like this! Just stay the fuck away from me and Ollie!"

"Ollie is my friend you- you bitch!" Azazel practically shrieks. The sound of Azazel's usually polite demeanor breaking in lieu of throwing around swears is something he'd never expect to hear. The rant doesn't end there. "Maybe you should go back to where you came from!"

Azazel leans in even closer to Malina, barely an inch of space between their faces as they bark insults at each other. Azazel's hair looks a shade lighter than usual. Was it stress, or her corruption progressing? At this rate probably both.

"E-nough! Knock it off! Now!" He steps between them, attempting to defuse the situation. He'd rather be defusing a hydrogen bomb. It'd be less stressful.

Azazel heeds him somewhat, but Malina does not. Her gaze avoids him completely, her focus entirely on Azazel. It's as if she forgets his existence entirely. She shoves him into Azazel, his body clattering to the asphalt gracelessly and knocking Azazel off-balance. He yelps as he feels his feet come out from underneath him.

The shock hits him before the ground does. He can't believe she would hurt him like that.

He thought he was past the people he loved hurting him.

Thankfully he manages to avoid hitting his head, cushioning the fall with his arms. It hurts nonetheless, his ribs taking the brunt of the impact. He lays there for a moment in disbelief, silence washing over the trio as they all stand in the empty parking lot. Normally they would expect Ollie to begin shouting up a storm, but he's just... quiet. His face is red and his eyes are teary, but his expression is blank. He shuffles to his feet, dusting off his jacket and checking the now-cracked phone screen before climbing into the van without a word.

He twists the key in the ignition, and the van humming to life as the engine turns over. Malina steps forward, placing a hand on the side of the van. Her eyes are full of guilt for what she's done. Or maybe, she knows she's fucked up. And she's worried it'll have some kind of consequence. "Ollie-" "Don't." He cuts her short. He doesn't know if that was an incoming apology, or an excuse. He doesn't care, either.

"Look! You keep saying it's my fault Ollie got hurt, but here you are-!" Azazel barks, restarting the argument. He's not having any of it, this time.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stop braying like a couple of stupid assholes or I'll leave you both here! Shut up!" His voice cracks a bit as he shouts, but his admonishment seems to define the situation they're in loud and clear. He's not joking.

Not another word is spoken, not another sound is made. They climb into the van, Malina in the middle, and Azazel all the way in the back as they drive home.

Needless to say, there would be no ice cream that day.

The ride is long and tense, but Ollie spends it all in a blur. A few of the demons try to make conversation when he gets home. Cerberus asks him to play. Justice asks him if he wants to spar. Taker offers him some fresh chocolate chip pancakes. All solicitations go ignored as Ollie pulls open the freezer and removes a bottle of Scotch. That's their first cue that something is seriously wrong.

The second is when he stomps up the stairs, the sounds of barely restrained sobs emanating from the stairway as he chokes down his wails.

The third is when Malina and Azazel come in from the garage, neither bothering to make any conversation with the others, nor argue with the other. Azazel's hair has stark grey strands which stick out like a sore thumb.

They weren't sure which was more worrying.