There was an inquiry about Lucius's height last chapter. He's five feet seven incbes. Average height. In other words, compared to the massive pillars around him, he's a midget.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

"I'm glad you're awake." Hugo nuzzles into my hair, seeming pleased that I'd settled in between his legs, happy to share his computer screen with me. "Was worried you'd never wake up again."

"Sorry 'bout that," I apologize, voice cracking a little bit. I squeeze my eyes shut. "Almost wish… I'd stayed asleep. You know?"

"Psh, no you don't," Hugo scoffs, his mouth tickling my scalp. "Don't be stupid. You'd miss more goofy Raffryn fanart."

I sneak a peek towards the tumblr screen. "Are you still looking at that mermaid stuff? Come on, Hugo."

"What?" He chuckles, wrapping an arm around me and scrolling with one hand. "I'm trash, I know. But hey, you should see some of the stuff about me and –"

He chokes a little bit. I give him an awkward backwards squeeze, snuggling closer to his chest. His arms hesitate for only a second before strangling me against him.

"Show me your stupid Raffryn stuff, huh?" I coax. "Lemme see whatever stupid fanfictions –"

"Ha, no," he laughs dryly, cutting me off with a shake of his head. "No fanfictions. That's emotionally scarring. There's one that gives me an existential crisis as soon as I open up the second chapter."

"Okay… fanart?"

"Less emotional scarring than what you suggested," he agrees. "How you holdin' up, Penny Poo? Heard from Paige or anything?"

"Literally, I woke up, like, two hours ago," I snort, breathing in his smell – it's less of its typical coppery tang, more like a mixture of soap and dog. Glancing towards Scruffy, I assume the doggy stench comes from him – noticing my attention, he shifts his head from where it lies on the bed beside Hugo, and opens his mouth in a slight grin. The thump, thump, thump of his tail grow slightly louder.

"Oi." Hugo nudges my knee with his, causing the laptop to rock on his lap. "Pay attention to me. Nobody cares about you, do they, Scruffy?" His voice softens. "Nobody likes you! Nobody actually likes you! Noooobody at all!"

Scruffy licks affectionately at Hugo's hand. With a noise of disgust ("Oi, cut that out, you mangy beast!"), he flicks the slobber back into Scruffy's face, leaving the wolf bewildered.

"You and Scruffy both are nasty as fuck," he decrees snobbily, rubbing the last of his wolf's slobber on my sleeve. I can't be bothered to move. "Seriously. Ugh. You're going to give me fleas."

"If I have fleas, I got them from you."

"And I got them from Scruffy!" Hugo cries.

"So you admit you have fleas, then."

He snorts, prodding me in the ribs. "Noooo, I'm saying that if I did, they'd still be from one of you two swine. That's right, I'm talking to you, you literal long-legged son of a bitch."

Scruffy yawns adorably, his little pink tongue flexing in his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you little mutt," I coo, tapping him on his black nose. "All of our problems come from you, don't they? Don't they?"

"How dare you cause world hunger, Scruffy-wup!"

"It's all your fault that the angels are here, isn't it, baby?"

"You're the reason that governments failed!"

"I bet those cute little paws knocked down all the barriers protecting humankind! Yes they did! Yes they did!"

"Have you been going around killing important members of society? Silly goose!"

For some reason, Scruffy's content with taking our verbal abuse. Maybe it's because he's an animal and has no clue what we're saying. Maybe it's because he knows we both just need an outlet to vent our frustration. Maybe he thinks we've both gone crazy and we need his support no matter our sanity levels.

The conversation between us shifts and molds from topic to topic – it hits riskier subjects from time to time, like Michael's intrusion and accusation, the lack of friends Baelan had that could come to a possible funeral, poor Audiat's state of mind. Most of the time, it hovers on the edge of almost being too light, too carefree, but I think both of us prefer it to the contrary.

Hours slip past. We scroll through a billion tags on Tumblr. I tell Hugo about Lucius's little freak-out, and he informs me that the Prince of Hell has a tumblr url (dontasktherealluciusanything), but hasn't been posting since the apocalypse. He chuckles when I say that I can't imagine that anyone would be actively posting since the apocalypse. The sunlight streaming in through the windows turns from early morning yellow to afternoon gold to evening orange.

At some point, I complain about Hugo's phone, which is buzzing right next to my ribcage. He grumbles a bit, but fishes it from his pocket.

"Oh, hell," he sighs tiredly from behind me. "Shit ain't good, Penryn."

"What?" I peer up at him, comfortably swaddled in his dapper "steampunk" jacket between his legs. "What is it? If I went to sleep now, could I escape it?"

"You really probably shouldn't. Fuck, this is bad. Enjoy your last five minutes of peace."

He refuses to tell me anything else, leaving an acrid tang of dread in the back of my mouth. Unconsciously, my gaze flickers to the doorway, expecting it to be thrown open at any moment.

Five minutes later, powerful knocking nearly slams the door down. Scruffy jumps to his feet with a startled woof, staring at the door and sniffing curiously at the air. Hugo sighs and lifts his ass from the bed to shamble reluctantly towards the doorway, where someone can be heard pacing back and forth loudly, slamming a fist against the wood on each repetition.

I fondle Scruffy's ears curiously, watching the doorway with wide eyes.

The first one to flutter through is Audiat.

She comes in like a fairy, her swirling white dress caked with paint and her hair a frizzy mess. Purple rings circle her dull eyes, and her lips are chapped and cracked. Her gaze fixes on me.

"Hi," I greet, surprised, wondering what she could possibly be doing here. "What are you –"

With a furious squeal, she pounces at me.

The breath is knocked from my lungs as she wraps both arms and legs around my torso and squeezes with all her might. I choke and gasp. Never having thought of Audiat as much of a brawny person was an obvious mistake – the muscles in her slender arms are still pumping with angelic blood, and she grips me tighter than even Raffe has.

"Oh hi, Audiat, how are you?" Hugo asks, patting her on the head nonchalantly, ignoring my state of peril. Audiat responds with a feline hiss, baring her teeth at him.

I suck in a breath and shove against her slightly. She doesn't budge.

"I swear to God Audiat if you kill Penryn I will rip off every one of your feathers."

"I was so worried!" Audiat yowls, throwing me backwards, nearly tipping me off the bed and only catching me by the arms. She drags me up to her so that we're eye to eye. "If you ever, ever run off again I will wring your neck. You are the only family I have left!"

"Thanks," Hugo moans, collapsing on the bed beside me melodramatically.

"Audiat was worried about you," a small voice laughs quietly; Josiah peeks his head over the she-angel's shoulder, prying her off of me with gentle hands. "I was, too. We all were."

"With every right!" Miffed, Audiat scales Josiah like she's climbing a tree, perching on his shoulders with her hands around his neck. She glares haughtily down at me, still looking pissed out of her mind. "What do you think you were doing? No one has seen hide nor hair of you –"

"Audiat," Josiah says with an awkward laugh. "She looks tired…"

"Tired!? I'm tired! Tired of worrying! Penryn, promise me you will never do that again!"

"I – okay?" I blink a few times, glancing from her to Josiah to Hugo. "What's going on?"

"You are in massive trouble, that's what." My gaze whips around to a shadow created by the folds of the curtains, and the rigid form hidden there in the darkness. Suited, handsome, hair tousled and eyes ablaze, he watches me stiffly, lip curled lividly. Rage rolls off of him in palpable waves.

"Oh – Raffe." My voice softens slightly over his name, and, embarrassed, I clear my throat before starting again. "What's all this about? I – what's going on?"

His eyes narrow menacingly, and his lips curl further. "Someone tell Penryn what's wrong."

"Oh, um." Josiah smiles apologetically at me. "Everyone was worried because we didn't know where you were. People got pretty wound up about it." He breaks off with a giggle, swatting Audiat's tickling hand away from his jawline, mumbling something about keeping her hands to herself.

"By 'people', do you mean Raffe?" I turn to him, scowling. I'd been relatively happy for a time being, stuck in a phase of blissful ignorance of the outside world, and I don't like it being interrupted. "I was literally going to see Emilio for two seconds. The rest of the time, I was here. That so bad?"

It occurs to me briefly that harshness is steeling my words, that my own frustration is poisoning my tone. But almost as quickly as I realize it, I dismiss it. Too long, however, have I been living under someone's thumb – whether it be Michael's or Lucius's or even Bryon's, God rest him. I shouldn't have to tell Raffe where I am every moment of every day, and his reaction to this is unjust; the anger in his aura would be relatable if I told him I'd just had an orgy with his archangel buddies. Not that I'd taken a short walk around the aerie.

"I didn't know where you could were, Penryn," he sneers. "You're so helpless, I don't trust you alone."

It stings, that comment. My ability to handle myself is something he's joked about before, but if he thinks he can walk all over me, he's wrong.

"Going down like it's the Berlin Wall." Hugo plops down on the bed next to me, but I take it upon myself to ignore him.

"I don't need you to babysit me, Raffe." I frown at him, turning my back on the archangel, ignoring the prickle of fear that dances along the nape of my neck, trickling slowly down my spine, like an icy needle being driven through each of my vertebra. "You should seriously stop worrying about me. And I'm not going to apologize for just walking around, okay?"

Raffe harrumphs and scowls at me. "Then I'm not talking to you."

"Fine." I snuggle back up to Hugo's chest, refusing to glance back towards Raffe. "Act like a two-year-old. See if I care."

"Oh, snap, son," Hugo sings, wrapping his arms around me and clicking back onto Tumblr. "The GF just put you down. Oh, but, Penryn, look at this comic, Raffe's – shit. No, that's Raffyon. Scrolling onwards."

"That's not going to happen, ever," I mumble, snuggling a bit closer to Hugo.

Raffe glares at me coldly for a few seconds before storming out of the room and into Hugo's bathroom. I can feel the disapproval rolling off of the boy as he lifts his head to watch my angel, and I have to admit, I don't know what the hell he thinks he's doing.

"What the hell is his problem?" I ask, sighing.

"My problem is that you aren't taking this seriously!" Raffe snarls from somewhere within the bathroom.

"Oh, dear," Audiat sighs. Mournfully, she lifts her hands in the symbol for rock paper scissors, and Josiah quickly accepts. After he wins, she moans melodramatically, and slips off his back. "Raphael, I am coming after you!" She skips over to the bathroom door and slips inside, her lilting call of Raffe's name echoed by the tile flooring. The door inches shut behind her.

"Well, whatever," I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. Hugo gives me a quick squeeze, reblogging the silly mermaid Raffe fanart I've seen him fawn over at least twice before. I rest against his shoulder, letting his cinnamon smell wrap me in familiarity and ease.

"Um." Josiah shifts awkwardly.

"Oh, hi." I make an effort to smile friendlily at him, despite the roiling heat in my gut. "Got your note, by the way. Thanks for a little bit of what was going on – I couldn't understand Raffe's at all."

"Yes, well." He fidgets a bit, red eyes trained towards the ground. "I just think… maybe… you should be taking him a bit more serious?"

"Raffe?" I stare at him incredulously. "He's just throwing a fit. He does that every now and then."

Josiah cracks a wry smile. "Ah ha, you really do know Raffe!" he chuckles, tone a bit more open, the tension in his shoulders relaxing.

"Not as good as you, I'm sure." Smiling, I wave him down on the bed. "Sit down, exchange some crazy Raffe stories. I'm sure you've got plenty."

His red eyes widen, and a crooked grin partners the warmth in his gaze. "Oh, trust me, I will," he promises, winking at me. "Archangels are like celebrities – so quirky. You wouldn't believe. But – another time. I – hear me out, okay?"

I grunt in response, feeling that the conversation is going to turn towards everyone's favorite whiny angel.

"Raffe – he was seriously, seriously worried, alright?" Josiah gently sets himself on the bed beside me, resting one warm hand over my own to draw my attention to him. "During the meeting, Michael made an offhand remark about you. Raphael freaked out. He cancelled early, made an excuse, and raced up to his room to find you gone without a trace. I – Penryn, we've spent a good chunk of today tearing this place apart brick by brick searching for you."

"Oh." My voice is slightly smaller. "Why didn't he check here?"

"He did, actually," Hugo pipes up. "Before you trekked your ass up all those stairs. I told Pasty I, Pasty II, and Pigeon-Bat to head down to Emilio, because you seriously love that dude."

"I was there." I turn to Josiah with wide eyes. "I made a short stop in the cafeteria to pick up some leftovers from lunch on my way up, but I went straight from there to here. How did we not run into each other?"

"Oh, hell if I know," Josiah sighs wearily. "Fate hates us, I suppose. We went down there. The Spaniard – Emilio? – was so high on drugs we couldn't get much of a straight answer out of him, but the nurse said that you'd been to see Lucius, and that the both of you had disappeared. That threw Raffe off another tangent of worry. He was going out of his mind, I tell you – we had to drag him away from Michael's door, he was about to knock it down and demand answers."

"Oh." I don't know what else to say. Furtively, I risk a glance towards the door.

"Oh," Josiah agrees. "Just… he's" – his voice gets a little bit louder – "acting like a little child right now, but he has good reason." Josiah swipes a thumb on the back of my hand. "I think what he wants to do now is wrap you up in a big hug. But of course, he's too manly to do that. And a bit miffed that you didn't take his worry seriously. Because Michael is a very serious deal."

"I know, I know," I grumble, rubbing my palm against my forehead. "I didn't even think – but I'm not going to apologize."

"Neither is he!" Audiat sings from the other side of the door. Raffe snarls out something unintelligible through the wood.

"Well, who's surprised?" Josiah muses good-naturedly. "Look, Penryn – I'm not saying he deserves an apology. Actually, I'm saying the exact reverse of that." He glares towards the bathroom, shaking his head. "But maybe you should just take a moment to look at it from his eyes?"

"Or maybe he should stop pouting like a fucking child," Hugo mutters, incredulity heavy in his voice, "and realize that Penryn can take care of herself."

"I…" I sink a bit in the cover. "I'm not going to apologize for being an adult and actually moving around like a normal human being, but… I realize I should've left a note or something. And I would really, really love a hug…"

Rudely, creaky hinges squeal, and a dark shadow is outlined in the slit the bathroom door by the light behind it. "I am not at all sorry for worrying. Because you get into everything. And there are a lot of dangerous people here. And you should've left me a note. But shouldn't have blown up at you. Even if you deserve it. You're getting a hug whether you want it or not."

Raffe kicks the door open a bit further, scowling at me from the doorway – but the menace no longer reaches his eyes. Blinking a few times, and shaking his head, he strides across the room purposefully, beelining towards me.

"Oh, no sir." I scowl at him teasingly, waggling a finger. "I don't want a hug from you, Feathers. That's what I've got Hugo for."

Groaning gutturally, Hugo lifts a leg high in the air and shoves me beneath it. With a startled squeak, I roll out of the warm nest I'd nestled happily into. I blink in confusion and push myself upright, glancing around at the cold comforter I'd been exiled to, and, suddenly, warm, warm arms.

"You're getting a hug from me whether you want it or not, monkey," Raffe all but growls, tackling me to the comforter. A small whine of protest escapes me, but I giggle and string my arms around his neck. With a tedious sigh and gruff chuckle, he curls around me, pressing one of his almost-kisses to my forehead.

I clutch him tight against me, leaning my head back to brush my lips against his jaw before cuddling back against his chest. A small, stupid smile plays over my face, and it's almost enough to heal the ache still in my heart.

"Oh, my god, not you two," Hugo groans. "Audiat and Jojo, get them off my bed."

"I can't hear you!" Audiat sings, plopping down beside me on the bed and raking her hands through her hair.

"Jojo?" With a touch of dread in his voice, Josiah sighs, shifting his weight awkwardly. "Please, don't tell me that's going to become your thing."

"He calls me Penny Poo," I sympathize, nodding and smiling towards him.

Raffe grunts. "You don't let me call you Penny Poo."

I scrunch my nose up and stare at him, but can't keep a serious face for long before I burst into a fit of giggles. He frowns and tilts his head a bit, staring back down at me, and I laugh harder.

"Sorry," I apologize through laughter, "but you've got, like, five chins from this angle."

"Oh, lovely," Raffe snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, lovely. Five lovely chins."

"Affection," Hugo sighs in annoyance. "Get off of my bed, you sickening lovebirds." His socked foot nudges insistently at my hair, prodding at Raffe's forehead. "Ewwww. Heterosexuals. Get off my dash, get out of my life."

"Ewww." I wrinkle my nose, peering up at him. "Homosexuals. God hates gays."

"God hates Penryn."

"God hates you."

"God apparently hates female sheep."

"Shut the actual fuck up, Hugo."

"Love you, Penryn."

"Ewww. Heterosexual."

Hugo growls, slamming the lid of his laptop shut, and tackles me playfully. "I am going to fucking murder you, Penny Poo. Scoot the fuck over, Pigeon-Bat, I'm murdering your asshat girlfriend."

"Sorry, I can't let you do that." Raffe swings out a wing and shoves Hugo off the bed – a startled yelp echoes from beneath the mattress, followed by a growled curse, probably indicating Hugo's fall onto Scruffy.

"That is my fucking bed, dickwad!" Hugo cries, his head appearing over the side, scowling. Beside him appears the very tips of two ears. "Oh, no, no, no you don't. Bad dog, no – Scruffy, no –"

He disappears beneath the bed again, laughing and cursing like a sailor. I smile, burying my forehead against Raffe's chest, listening to Scruffy's playful growling. Audiat's weight next to us on the bed barely shifts the springs – her tiny fingers sift through my hair, braiding it gently, then running her hands through it to get rid of the plaits only to begin again.

I find myself dozing again, happy and warm. Lazily, I watch as Hugo drags his laptop off the bed and lounges against Scruffy instead, and as Audiat surrenders my hair to Raffe's gentle caresses and moves to tie Josiah's hair back in various ponytails and tiny braids, brushing it gently. At some point, Ariel drifts in, collapsing on Hugo's loveseat, clad only in a snuggie, her wings covering her ass. I can't find myself bothered to care.

Somewhere inside me, there's a pang of loss. The lump in my throat isn't quite gone. Any thoughts of the man that was once my uncle are severed halfway through their execution. It hurts, Bryon's loss. And it won't stop hurting for quite some time – I know that. But for right now, for this exact moment… it's okay.

Peacefully, I drift off, happy in Raffe's arms.

I had hoped we would be allowed to see him.

Blinking a few times, I bolt upright, tingles spreading across my dreamworld body in a not overly pleasant sensation. My eyes, if they can truly be called that, gaze upon a scene that is not wholly unfamiliar – grey stones, roughly cut and dully colored, slotted together to form a long, bleak hallway. I have not been through this particular wing – it's unfamiliar to me, but, honestly, with all the history that this place probably has accumulated, it's unsurprising.

Beside me is another unfamiliarity. Audiat, pale and hazy aside from her warm, cherry red eyes, kneels before a stained glass window, her face unreadable. I blink a few times, realizing that the voice I'd heard in my brain hadn't been from Black Wolf, but rather, her.

"Um… what?" Awkwardly, I stumble to my feet, clumsily closing the distance between us. "What are you… what?"

Bryon. Lifting one white finger, she points towards the stained glass window in front of her brokenly. Sometimes… the dead are able to cross paths with the living in these halls. Sometimes. We agreed to meet here – the glass where he proposed to me.

My heart pangs painfully in my chest. "Oh…" I glance fleetingly up at the window, then back down at her. "Oh, Audie. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head slowly. It's nothing I wasn't expecting. It's… rare at the best of times. After a pause, she sighs, rising slowly. Like I said, it's rare. I just let my hopes get too high. I've already said goodbye. I will… I will get over him.

I cock my head to one side, frowning. "…You said Bryon is walking around here? Like, in his own hallway? …Maybe he's just not here yet."

Time doesn't work like that around here. Audiat waves her hand. It's hard to explain. Ask Blackie about it.

"Oh." Lost in thought, I stare down the hallway, staring until it fades into grey mist – then, suddenly, "Are you going to forget about him? Bryon, I mean?"

Audiat's eyes widen, and she sits in quiet shock for a few moments, before hastily looking away. A shiver runs through her. Someday… yes… someday I will. Assuming nobody kills me before then… immortality doesn't quiet compute with our brains, Penryn. Only extraordinary people could remember an eternity.

"Okay." I swallow, but it's much more difficult, and when I blink, my eyes sting. "I… it's okay. I won't forget him. It's… not right, y'know? Wish I'd known him for longer."

Audiat smiles at me – I can feel a prickle of warmth in her aura, almost see the crinkle in the corner of her eyes. He would've loved that, too. He loved you. And Paige. And your parents. He loved his whole family. And it's not right to forget that.

"Right." Swallowing, I look down at my feet. "I don't want to forget that."

Then don't.

"Lucius," Bryon sighs, sounding very, very tired – his weariness falls not upon deaf ears, but upon uncaring ones indeed. "You're not supposed to be in here, you know."

"Oh, I know," he responds venomously. "I'm well aware. And I'm sure you wanted it to be your little wife so she could cozy up in your arms and, hey, maybe you could have one last good fuck. I'm well aware of that."

"You're upset," the older man realizes after a pause, concern replacing his jaded uncouthness. "What's wrong, Lucius? What's the matter?"

"The matter is that you've left me all alone in this." Straightening, the boy takes a step back, turning around angrily to meet the dead man's eyes. "You were the only one that knew the truth. My last fucking hope. And you couldn't even save your goddamn niece before you died."

Bryon releases a heavy sigh, hanging his head and shaking it very, very slowly. "Lucius…"

"I don't understand it!" the boy shrieks, and before his eyes, the Prince of Hell begins to unravel. "I don't understand it at all! You love your fucking family, you loved me! How could you? How could you even… he killed us all!"

"Lucius…"

"Penryn, Belle, Theobella, S'tzu, Emilio, Kilo, Thea, Sariel, Mom!" Lucius says furiously. "And later, you know what he's going to do if I settle down?" His words spike with poison. "If I want to have kids? Raise a family? Take an actual wife instead of goddamn power whores? He'll kill them, too!"

"Lucius."

"Thousands, Bryon!" He paces angrily to the taller man, staring up into bronze eyes he had… he had so dearly missed for centuries. "Thousands of our people! Not just our family, but… everyone! How can you…? How can you let that slip past?"

"Why are you taking this out on me now?" Bryon says quietly, studying the demon with muted curiosity and a mounting sense of dread. "I think I know why, but… just tell me."

"You were my last hope of saving her, Bryon," Lucius hisses through gritted teeth. "If I could've kept Penryn from falling in love, I could've saved us all. I could've saved my goddamn mom. My goddamn baby cousin. You know, the little six-year-old girl that's terrified out of her wits and currently terrorizing cities. Because she doesn't understand why her daddy's evil."

"Lucius, it would've happened –"

"Don't give me your half-assed excuse!" Lucius snaps, turning on a dime and hurling a fist into the stone wall beside him, causing a shudder to ripple down the corridor, as if the foundations of heaven itself are shaking. "You saw it too, didn't you? As he pulled her body from the aerie? I saw you watching."

Bryon watches, mute, and awfully, terribly sad as Lucius's voice begins to quiver with tears. He tries to recall the last time he saw the boy crying – truly crying – and can't.

"You saw it, too. One day, one day far, far from now, he'll be carrying her dead body and he'll be the one to have killed it! That monster, he's… he's going to kill us all. He's going to kill every last one of us."

Raking his hands through his hair, Lucius paces, agitated, back and forth over the floor, swallowing thickly.

"And it's up to me now to fix that." A dry croak sounds in the back of Lucius's throat. "You understand that, don't you? No one would ever listen to the weird, lunatic Son of Satan, would they? You get that every word I speak will be disregarded as ludicrous? And now you've gone and you've left me all alone and…" Lucius sucks in a great breath, looking back into his bronze eyes again. "And I don't what to do, Bryon. I don't. I don't know how to save Penryn or Paige or anyone. Or Bertholdt. Or Belle. Or even fucking Ariel. I don't know what to do without you."

"I believe in you," Bryon whispers softly. "You're strong, Lucius. So very, very strong."

Lucius chokes on his own spit. "S-strong?" he stammers, appearing at a loss for words. Suddenly, the choking becomes a small, terrified sob. A scarlet tear traces down a porcelain cheek, and a mouth opens and closes.

"Bryon, I –" Lucius shakes his head, opening and closing his mouth with strangled noises. "I am sixteen! Sixteen!"

His words hang in the air, suspended, tense. The silence is broken with a pathetic mewl escaping his throat. He throws himself backwards, colliding against a wall and slipping down onto the floor, his sobs coming easily now.

"I am sixteen, Bryon, and I don't want to be fucking strong, I don't – you were the only one that ever seemed to give a shit, and now everyone – Penryn, Mom, Emilio, Belle, Ariel – is going to die." Lucius weeps louder, curling into a tiny ball. "He's going to kill them, Bryon. He's going to kill them. And I don't know… what can I do?"

"Lucius…"

"What can I do?" he whispers in a soft, shivering voice, shoulders rocking up and down. "What can I do? I can't do anything!"

"You poor, poor boy," Bryon whispers, his voice sounding heavy. Slowly, he moves forward, placing a hand on Lucius's shoulder and using another to tilt his chin up. "I love you, Lucius. I love you so much. I don't know what I can say. There's no easy way out of this enigma. We can only brave –"

"Fuck that!" Lucius howls. "I'm – I'm sick of this. I want them back! I want my mom back! I want – I want Emilio back! I don't want that bastard to whisk them away, I just want –"

"Lucius." Bryon's voice is firmer now. "Lucius, put your eyes on me. Now, Lucius."

Sniffling, rubbing the back of his hand against his nose, Lucius tilts his gaze upwards – his shoulders shake and his nose still runs, scarlet tears tracing down his face. He looks like something out of a nightmare, something horrendous, something to be feared, and yet… nothing has ever seemed more vulnerable to Bryon.

"You know that's not your name, don't you, my boy?" Bryon whispers, roughly cupping the demon's jaw. "You know what your name translates to. Don't you?"

"I'd be an idiot not to." Lucius sniffs dejectedly, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and pressing his face into Bryon's hand. Voice muffled, the boy mumbles, "But he's gone now, that other one. I killed him."

"You're still the boy you used to be," Bryon croons softly, looking into the demon's eyes. "You're just a little more damaged. A little bit rougher around the edges. But it makes you so much more of a beautiful soul, Lucius. Your heart is so… so inexplicably huge and gorgeous in its own way. And you know what, boy? You can still be Bryon Jr. if you try. He's not gone. He's just locked up a bit tighter."

"He's gone." Lucius sounds uncertain, even to his own ears. "That boy is gone. So long as there is business to be done, I will need this wretched skin and these terrible eyes, because fuck knows nothing I say gets taken seriously without them. Hell, most things still aren't."

"Actions speak louder than words, son," Bryon whispers. "If you want to be the good man I know you are… show everyone else."

Slowly, Lucius shakes his head, looking dubious. "I'm not sure… I'm not sure I can do this, Bryon. I'm already driving myself crazy. I can't watch them die again. I can't."

"Then don't." One slender eyebrow perks. "Word on the streets, Lucius, is that you've learned the art of reincarnation, of transferring a soul into a different body, a body of your own making. Did you pick that talent up for nothing?"

There's one pronoun in that last section that should clear up the picture more.

Also. Lucius is sixteen. Now, I don't know your ages out there in the audience, but… no one's got their shit together at sixteen.

Explanation for his age, in case I don't get around to it? Lucifer's curse stunted his growth.

So, let's do a little tally-up of everything that's going on in Lucius's world right now: he's an emotional wreck, he's furious, he's lost, he's lonely, and, if you read between the lines, he's terrified that everyone's right about him being a lunatic. Not only that, but… he knows everybody's gonna die. Conclusion? You tell me.

I have most of the next chapter already written. He he.

POLL: I'm a little bit in denial that End of Days ever existed, but I know that's probably not the case with some of y'all. Right? There had to be someone that enjoyed it…? Right…? Lemme know if you want me to continue this regardless, or if it's just best to let it lie. Up to y'all.

EDIT: There was a big ol resounding "YES" from all y'all - hello, dear readers I've never heard from, I'm glad you like it! Onwards with B&B!

Ciao,

~wolfluvermh