Bonjour, mes chers! A little later than I would have liked, but I hope you enjoy the last chapter to our brief arc of Danny venturing into the past and letting his curiosity get the better of him. Don't worry, mes chers. Everything is as it should be.
As you know by now I have a Patr(e)on! If you think I'd be worth spending a few dollars on every month then consider checking it out! There are polls, special code words that let you request a drabble from me, and links to the old version of the stories I've written. Check it out at the Patr(e)on website with the name mjanderson So come on, join now and help change the tide so you read what YOU want to read!
Remember to check my tumblr for updates and new things as well at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter
Warnings for: (Past) Character Death, emotional manipulation
Chapter Forty Eight
::
"I see." The words were whisper soft, Danny keeping his eyes trained on the Priest as he pushed himself up to stand, the man brushing off his clothes as he did so. "You weren't very quick to find me, though, were you? I've had years, after all."
"Even the damned should experience freedom once, don't you think?" Ah, ah, Danny was breaking character. He could see it in the way Andrew slipped in instead of the Priest. He could see it in the way his mouth softened and his eyes went kind.
"You could experience it for yourself, too. You're old enough that this would be considered a solo mission so you're no doubt on your own." God- Andrew was really trying to save him. God dammit. "Let me help you." Andrew's hand was held out to him, the smile starting to return and his eyes lighting up. "I can do it- I can help you escape like Randy helped me. You can be free. You can start over with a new life and have so much more-"
"Oh? The same Randy that I killed?" Hate him, already. Hate him. Get angry- Angry was what saved you. Angry got things done. "Did living here make you into an idiot, Priest? I just told you, didn't I?" Disbelief warred with rage and oh, no. That wasn't good enough. "Do you really think someone like him could be poisoned by those who know nothing of our world? Of our craft? Do you really think he would die so easily? It was a bit funny, really… The last words on his breath were him begging for me to not kill you. I think he'll like this more, don't you? Now he'll get to see you again-"
Pain shot through him as his back slammed into one of the shelves, a yelp escaping as books tumbled down on his head. Snapping his eyes open he was greeted with the sight of eyes that were filled to the brim with utter hatred. "You killed him." No. "You're the reason he's gone." No, he wasn't. "You're the one responsible for this!" N…
"Are you just now figuring that out?" Danny realized there was a hand against his throat that would have made it difficult to breathe if he were anyone else. As it was, well. He wasn't human, now was he? "The Sect of the Crow saved you from a life of nothing and gave you a home, a purpose, and a God to follow. This is how you repay them?"
"Gave me- They took from me!" Andrew's words echoed across from the library like the screams of a tortured soul, Danny breathless for an entirely different reason. He had never seen so much of the Priest before. "They took from me everything- You took from me everything I had left."
"The only thing traitors have to look forward to is death. Your brother knew that better than most and he couldn't even face it without begging on the ground like a dog. Maybe the mutt's master will be a better challenge." Danny was moving as soon as he finished, breaking the hold on his throat and moving just as a dagger skidded against his cheek and drew blood. If he had been any slower…
"Let's see how you like it when all is taken from you." It was the Priest who stood before him, confident and assured and daggers wielded in hand as easily as Danny wielded his own powers. "The Sect wants to make a point? Fine, I'll make one of my own using their own 'pet.'" The last word was snapped off and torn out of him like sacrilege, Danny only able to stare in awe.
"So this is who you were." This was the Priest of Death in all his glory. This was the Priest at the height of his power with death in his shadow, blood at his fingertips, and words of prayer on his breath. It was the Priest as Danny had never before seen him.
"Ah, so they still tell my story." A glint of steel had Danny falling to the side again, letting a sliver of his cheek turn intangible so the blade passed right through him. "Let me show you just who the Priest of Death was, young disciple."
"In whose name do you kill now, then?" Angrier. Andrew needed to be angrier. "It isn't for the Lord that you so easily abandoned. Do you do it in the name of your pet?" The two charged at the same time, Danny ignoring the sharp stings and cuts he felt tear his skin open as he focused on shaping his ghostly energy around his fists. Not enough to be seen and not enough to fire off a shot, but just enough to give him more power than a human ever should.
When they disengaged, Danny noticed that Andrew was gasping for breath and clutching at one of his sides. It took a moment longer to realize Danny himself was bleeding from four different places, one of them three inches long on his right side that felt as if it was deep. "You were impressive." If he were human, he would already be on the ground and scrambling to stop the blood from pouring out of him. As it was, he only tilted his head and gave a grin that held no life. "Good."
The Priest would survive this.
Danny wished he could lie and say it became a blur, but he knew these memories would be crystal clear until the day he no longer existed. When he looked back on this, he would remember each jagged tear that Andrew's knives had caused and he would remember each ragged breath the man had drawn as he grew weaker, and weaker, and weaker…
The words that dripped from his tongue were poison that burned holes that would never be forgotten. The words he spoke were of a voice that was not his own - could never be his own - and yet he made them sound as if there was no other life. He made them words to believe.
He saw it, too. How each word dug into Andrew's skin like hooks and would never be removed. How each mention of Randy's death ruined his perfect aim and sent his breath skittering towards rapid and fearful. How each smile Danny managed made his hate grow even stronger. He saw all of it.
It could have been hours or it could have been minutes and Danny would have never known the difference. All he knew was that blood flowed down his skin and left impressions he would forever feel after tonight, Andrew shaking and kneeling on the ground in front of him. Danny stared and Andrew stared back, both unable to say a thing before Danny walked close enough for one last kick. It was a kick that had Andrew staying on the ground, completely unconscious. It was the first time that Danny noticed just how battered and bruised they both had become.
Staring down at him, Danny couldn't help his laugh as white rings traveled around his body. "And here I always wondered just who could have defeated the Priest of Death!" His laugh turned echoic and ethereal. It turned into something that wasn't human.
Power shifted and thrummed beneath his fingers, Danny rising into the air and staring at Andrew before he spoke, as if expecting someone to answer his god-forsaken pleas. "Of course it was me. Of course it was the ghost child who never knew what he would become."
Andrew Claude Riter was twenty-two years old when he died from a library fire in 1983. This was a moment in history that would not be changed. A moment that could not be changed. Danny, for as useless as he was, knew enough about this. The energy of the timekeepers themselves flowed through him and Danny would not insult them by acting like a child now.
With that thought in mind, he gathered all of his energy into his hands. He had an ice core, true, but general ectoplasm energy ran hot. With his emotions right now it was too easy. Hotter. Hotter, and hotter, and hotter, and he would let this place burn. He would burn this library to the ground with Andrew trapped inside just… Just as it should be. Everything was as it should be, right? Ha. Ha. What a fucking joke.
The bookcases standing sentinel on either side of the main doors exploded into green flames that reminded Danny of an old cartoon he had watched as a kid when it came time to showing what 'hell' looked like. The cases crumbled and fell to the side, blocking and covering the door before the fire leapt and spread, hungry and devouring everything in sight.
Danny already felt the heat as he floated back down to the ground softly and slowly, tips of his boots brushing against the carpet before he was shifting to kneel in front of Andrew. The man's breathing was unsteady and staggered, coughs rattling through him as smoke began to feel the air.
Reaching his hand out, Danny couldn't hold back a choked sob as he brushed his fingers against a familiar gray scarf. A scarf that Danny would wear decades from now - a scarf that he had left behind when Andrew had looked at him with such terror. He was killing his mate… Danny killed his mate. He was already worse than Dan had ever been.
Hand twitching, Danny carefully - so carefully - rested it upon Andrew's cheek. A little shift and his palm cupped the skin - skin that was smooth and soft and filled out from the last few years of a steady, safe life. A rattling cough shook Andrew's body once more, Danny rubbing his thumb under Andrew's eye before he could even think the action through. Maybe it would bring him some comfort-
"Randy?" Oh… Oh, Andrew. "You died." Danny stared down at Andrew, not stopping the motion and oh, of course. Blue eyes from his ice powers trying to keep him cool, white hair that he had just cut short, and a glow around him that could be attributed to nothing but death.
"Hello, my little one." The French words slipped out of him, Danny smiling to himself. Andrew needed to die angry and alone and feeling like there was nothing left. Danny could do that. He could do that. "You lost."
"Oh." Randy, huh? Danny's voice was deeper, now. If he just pitched it a little bit lower, adopted that soft crooning tone Randy used when they were scared… Danny knew so much about them, after all. "Randy, I'm scared."
"I know, little one." Danny bent down, brushing a kiss against Andrew's forehead as the man was wracked with yet another coughing fit. "The Sect found us… I couldn't protect us-"
"No- No, you did everything for us. Randy, I'm sorry, I wasn't there- I was so scared to tell you- Too scared to tell you that I loved you and now I'm dying without even getting a chance and-" A sob shook Andrew instead of a cough this time, Danny staring down blankly as his mate completely broke and shattered to pieces.
"Oh, Andrew." He wouldn't let this man die afraid. "Ssh, little one, shush." Danny curled over Andrew, lips resting against the man's forehead as he moved his hand to press against the back of the other's neck. "Will you listen to what I have to say?"
"Always." Good.
"Good." Fight. "Get angry. Get upset. Get mad." Please… Please come back to him. "Get revenge, my precious one. My sweet angel."
Andrew tried to answer before coughing and this time not stopping. Danny watched him, hand pressing harder against the man's neck before he sent a shock of energy into the man. It was just enough to push him back into unconsciousness, Danny crooning softly into his ear, "Bonne nuit, mon petit."
Danny tugged at the scarf around Andrew's neck, moving it to cover his nose and mouth and unable to stop a laugh as he did so. It was just so- Of course. Of course he was nothing but the substitute. That's all that he had ever been. He had just been there to fill in the silence until Randy and Andrew realized what was there for them.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck Spectra for being right- For being right about everything. The sob that shook him took him by surprise, the next one, however, didn't. The cold that had been keeping him safe vanished, Danny breathing in ash and smoke with each heaving breath and coughing it out until tears were streaming down his face and his throat burned.
A sudden jerking sensation had him screaming as his grip on Andrew broke, Danny tumbling across stone floors and gasping as cool air invaded his lungs and fought with the burning air that still resided there. Gasping and heaving and trying to breathe, Danny could only sob and break as he realized Andrew wasn't there anymore. Andrew wasn't there. He was gone. It was just him. Him alone and sobbing and unable to do anything because he was such a-
A world away his mate was burning from a fire he had created. A world away Andrew Riter was dying from Danny's hand.
A world away his own world was ending.
