"Darryl?"

The arms dealer slowly opened his eyes, and his own hand brushed against his face. It stung when he pressed his finger against the torched skin, and a soft hand pulled his hand away. When his vision finally stopped blurring, tears began to well in his eyes. The sight of curly, ginger hair, tan skin, and murky brown eyes greeted Darryl, and he couldn't be happier.

Darryl embraced Harley in a tight hug, afraid that if he let go, he'd disappear again.

"What… What are you doing here?" Harley asked, before spotting the book next to the arms dealer.

"Oh." Harley gently pushed Darryl off him, picking up the book for himself. Darryl wanted to talk, to say something, before he noticed his own lover's face. "Harley, what the hell happened to your cheek?!" Harley paused, before touching his own burn mark.

"The same thing that happened to you. The pact."

Darryl stood up, noticing his injured arm was now completely fixed. His voice strained as he spoke, "Pact? I didn't make a pact; I did a ritual thingy! A-And you're back! You're actually here!"

Although the smile on Harley's face was genuine, it portrayed a grim sadness. "You did the ritual right, but… God, this is my fault." Harley sighed, taking a seat in the pew Darryl used earlier, and the arms dealer moved to face him, to comfort him.

"What? No, it's that fuckin' hero's fault! He torched you to kill- "

"To kill me."

Darryl paused. "What?"

Harley gently grasped Darryl's hand, resting his forehead against the rough texture of his skin. "The hero didn't do anything wrong."

Darryl frowned, "But he killed you!"

Harley sighed again. "Yeah, twice. But it's okay!"

"Twice?" Harley ignored Darryl's blurt, before speaking, "Darryl, have you ever wondered what would happen if you tried to revive something that can't die?"

Darryl shook his head. "No, I was more focused on… well, you."

Harley's soft smile returned, "The ritual you used, it doubles as a pact. Using your blood as proof of your dedication, it's an easy way to tell a god that they can use your soul," A small blush appeared on the guide's face as he continued, "But I honestly didn't need your blood to accept yours."

Darryl's heart froze, before he facepalmed into his free hand. "I am… so dumb."

Harley tilted his head, "Elaborate?"

"Hacisious was under your name on the book, of course you worshipped her!" Darryl explained. Harley laughed to himself. "Worshipped?"

"Yeah, you wrote so much about her too!" Darryl rested his head on top of Harley's.

"Darryl… I am Hacisious." Darryl's eyes widened, before he backed away from the ginger. "You're clearly still delirious."

Harley smiled, "I'm not. If anything, you are the crazy one." The arms dealer shook his head. "Do you know what you're saying?!"

"You only knew Hacisious for a few days at most, why are you so defensive?" Harley argued back. "No it's not about that, I don't give a damn about her! You're calling yourself a god, that's what I'm freaking out about!"

"Rude! Also, I'm a demigod!" Harley stood back up. "Here, watch this."

Harley tapped his foot, and the calm, peaceful room was suddenly filled with bright red. Blood and gore seeped from the roof, and Darryl backed up. As he did, he hit the back of his head against the statue behind him. As soon as the arms dealer hit the ground, everything immediately returned to normal, like what happened was only some illusion. "Shit! Are you okay?!" Harley placed his hand on the back of Darryl's head, pressing against the small wound. Warmth traveled from Harley's fingertips to the injury, and the pain was gone. "Holy shit, you're not joking." Darryl said, letting himself sit down on the platform of Hacisious, no, Harley's statue.

Letting the scent of peaceful lavender back into his senses, Darryl looked at Harley. "So, the thing on your face, I did that?" Darryl asked, feeling worse about himself every second that passed. "No, the ritual did. This is just a normal thing for me, no pain. Yours isn't. Does it still hurt?" Harley asked, crouching down to meet Darryl's brown eyes. "No… Does it look bad?"

Harley shook his head. "Our brands match, so you can take a look for yourself."

"Brand? I'm guessing it marks the pact."

"Yeah. I thought you didn't like reading books!"

"It's in the book?" Darryl asked, staring at the leather book. "Oh." Harley replied, a little disappointed. "Wow, you didn't even bother to finish my incredible book, my heart is in pieces!" Harley dramatically stood up, facing away from Darryl while faking a sigh. "Hey, I read most of it!" Darryl laughed, before he wrapped his arms around his partner's waist. "I made that while I was stuck being omnipotent! It was so boring doing nothing for so many years!" Harley responded, laughing with Darryl. "Oh boo-hoo, you we're so bored being an all powerful god!" Harley rolled his eyes. "I was a Demigod, actually."

After the two shared a couple more whips between themselves, Darryl eventually let go of Harley, facing his statue. "So, pacts usually come with powers and junk, whatcha' got for me?"

Harley sat up, choosing to stay on the floor. "I don't have much, but you have my pyromancy."

"Holy hell! Fire magic? The hell do you mean that's not a lot!?" Darryl stuck his hand out. Harley smirked as Darryl tried to focus on using said magic. "What are you up to?" Harley asks, teasing the arms dealer. "Harley, how the hell do I use my new fire magic?" Darryl asks, getting frustrated. "Like this."

Harley snapped his fingers, and flames burst from Darryl's hand. The heat was just below unbearable, but the adrenaline in Darryl's blood spiked. "Shit! This is cool as hell!"

"You just got to stick out your hand and focus. You could probably ask the hero to get you some mana stars, it'll let you use your magic a bit longer." The flames stopped as Harley finished his explanation. "Eh, I still prefer my guns. It'll be cool lighting cigs without a lighter though." Darryl said, before walking back to the metal door.

"Whatever makes you happy, dear." As Harley spoke, a large thud at the door stole the two's attention. "But at least give it a shot." Harley smirked, and Darryl knew what he was implying. "Nothin's better than the smell of burning bones in the morning, eh?" Darryl paused for a moment. "Don't tell the clothier I said that..."

Harley laughs. "He couldn't hear me anyway."