Finding Darren’s apartment was easy, more or less. Skylar had more issue getting into the building than finding it. It had a buzzer and lock system, so she did what any sane person would do in this situation: She buzzed each apartment. One. At. A. Time. Someone eventually let her in with very few questions, she just had to remember the old woman in 4A was willing to share some pot if she’d be willing to help bring groceries up when they were delivered. All in all, her time wasn’t a total bust.
“2C,” Skylar said, counting as she walked down the hallway, stopping to chuckle ever so slightly at the doormat, “Fruits and… Ever-queer only? Chick ain’t even hiding it.” She knocked on the door, and before she could knock again she heard racing footsteps running up to the door. When it opened, there was a dark haired girl standing in the doorway, her brown eyes filled with relief and elation for the briefest of moments.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else,” the girl started. “Who’re you looking for?”
Skylar smiled as much as she felt was appropriate, lowering her voice. “I know this is going to sound strange, but can we talk inside?”
The girl moved to brace her foot against the door, it was obvious she didn’t trust Skylar, or she was trying to hide something.
“It’s about the person who lives here… Darren.” Skylar held out Darren’s student ID for the girl, who took it, looking it over with more worry. “Can I please come inside?”
“Danny,” the girl retorted as she held the ID. “Her name is Danny.”
Skylar snorted incredulously. “I fucking told them.” Skylar shook her head, looking back up to the girl. “May I please come inside? It is urgent.”
The girl nodded briefly, opening the door wider for Skylar to enter.
“What can I call you?”
“Ariana. I’m Danny’s girlfriend.” Ariana said as she shut the door behind Skylar. “What happened to Danny?”
“I’ll tell you, but what you have to know right now is that she’s alive. We currently have her in a safehouse with expert medical care. She’s unconscious, and she probably will be for a while, but she will live,” Skylar explained as she wrung her hands. She always hated giving the news like this to people, to see their grief or their fear… Skylar considered herself to be a tough bitch, but it's the victim's families that make her nervous.
“What happened to her?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I was the first one on the scene, but I didn’t see it go down. I just got there barely in time to keep her from dying,” Skylar said, shrugging. “I have to ask you a very uncomfortable question, if you’re up for it.”
Ariana nodded.
“We’re aware she’s possessed. Do you know what it is?”
The air itself seemed to ripple and take a more solid form, defined angles and colors. Skylar took a step back as she saw a tall woman of ashen skin standing well over her, looking down at her with a tired malice. The woman’s tail was a spade on the end, but it was ridged and lined with serrated bone, an instrument of war. Even this woman’s feet were dangerous, like some cross of a dog and hawk, digitigrade and harshly clawed. “I am she, the one that possesses the girl.”
Skylar pulled her Silversteel knife, about to attack the being. She didn’t care she was banged up, but Demons never revealed themselves unless-
Skylar reeled back as a television remote hit her just above her eye.
“Bitch tits!” She held her hand over her eye, groaning in displeasure. “You threw a fucking remote at me!?”
“In my defense, you were about to attack me,” the Demoness said, folding her arms. “Contrary to what you believe, I did not reveal myself to fight. I wish to talk.”
Skylar straightened up, looking the Demoness over. “You can read my mind?”
“After a fashion. My kind can sense the emotions, intentions, and thoughts directed at us.”
Skylar nodded as she sucked on her teeth in consideration. “Alright then, let’s talk. We’re gonna talk like two civilized peeps.”
The Demoness pointed to the fridge. “It’s not White Claw, but they do have beer in the fridge.”
Skylar paused, looking between the Demoness and the fridge, then to Ariana, then back to the fridge.
“Fuck it,” Skylar said, sheathing her knife. “Let’s talk civilized.”
The three of them talked for about an hour while Skylar drank the various beers in the fridge. The Demoness introduced herself as Babel, because apparently Skylar fraternized with Demons from Babylonian times now. As Ariana explained as much as she could about the last few days-
“Hold up a moment,” Skylar said, throwing up her hands, “Darren… Danny’s in a band? Is it by chance Disgraced Saints?”
Ariana’s face twisted into confusion for a moment before she was hit with clarity. “You’re that Skylar. The girl who’s ghosting Jericho?”
“Hey, now.” Her eyebrows raised. “I’m not ghosting him, I’ve just been busy. I had tons of fun at the movies with him. I messaged him just a few days later…” Skylar pulled her phone from her back pocket, going through the texts, stopping at Jericho’s number. There were seven missed texts. “Oooh… right. I meant to get back to him. Man… time flies when you’re working. Hopefully a couple weeks of no-showing can be forgiven.”
“Danny told me you went out with her and Jericho about mid-December.”
“And...?”
“It’s May.”
Skylar just stood there for a moment, looking at the date on her phone.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Skylar said, putting her phone back in her pocket. “We have more pressing issues.” She sighed, leaning her back against the wall. “If you would like, I could bring you to see her. As for you, Babel, the Big Man would love to meet you. Especially since you’re so… civilized.”
***
Meta was doing everything in her power to hold Danny together, frantically pulling pieces of her back together. It felt… inevitable. Like she was trying to constantly rebuild a sandcastle against a rising tide. The damage to Danny in this space showed how badly she was physically damaged, how bad her mind had been injured. Meta didn’t know how she was supposed to save Danny. The damage was severe, and quite thorough.
The mental attack of the Cambion had shredded her in a psychic way, but the physical battering and damage to her human brain was intense as well. Even if she managed to repair that, there was no way she’d ever be able to be 100% normal again, she just didn’t have enough energy left to do it… and there wasn’t enough of Danny left to make a permanent hold. Without outside interference, Danny would never wake up.
Was it minutes? Hours? Days? In a mindscape it was hard to judge time to begin with; it’s even harder when the life inside the mindscape slows down and speeds up as it heals and succumbs. Before long all Meta was able to keep a hold of was shards of her humanity, and a strong and still-beating heart, but she was determined that she would die before allowing herself to lose more of Danny.
“Meta,” a familiar voice resounded behind her.
***
Babel barely recognized Meta. She could almost pass for human if you didn’t look directly at her. “What’s happened here?”
Meta looked down at the shards and heart in her hands, holding on for dear life. “I was able to repair the psychic damage as it came from the Cambion, but I didn’t have enough to repair the rest of her.” Meta looked up at Babel. Tears that shimmered like crystals beaded in her eyes. “I can’t repair her.”
Babel sighed, looking herself over, unsurprised to see the extent of how much her possession of Danny had already blended into herself. She was far more Demon-looking than Meta, but given enough time and she’d probably lose herself completely. “Is that all that’s left?”
Meta nodded, holding the pieces out for Babel to see. “I couldn’t save much, but… I saved her heart.” Meta’s tears fell and mingled with the remnants in her hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t let her die.”
“Yes, I can. If I have to,” Babel said, her tone becoming harsh. “By extension so will you.”
“I will not.” Meta shook her head. “I will not let us give up on her.”
Babel had moved from annoyed to scared, knowing that she could no more control Meta than humans their subconscious. If Meta wanted to save Danny, even at the cost of her own life, it meant Babel did too… but why?
“You stupid… CREATURE! Ever since we were finally freed from the bottle you’ve adamantly stuck to this ONE child! Because of you not helping me, I was forced to tear through the minds of dozens of humans just to finally get my fill. No real power, no sway, no nothing! I’ve tried to live without you, but I can’t. So please, tell me why I should sacrifice everything for one stupid girl?”
Babel’s words were meant for herself. They bit into her, she saw the damage she did to herself reflect in the face of Meta, though Meta didn’t retort. She accepted the anger, the frustration, she understood and knew why.
“Because we already did, twelve years ago.”
***
Babel’s mind barely began to come back into focus as she stood over a small child, devouring the emotions he threw off. But she needed more. She seeded her Meta into the child, absorbing ambient thought, emotion and energy. She would drain this child until he lay dead or dying at her feet, and then she’d move on to the next. What she wasn’t ready for, though, was the small boy to be able to see her. His eyes fixed on hers, sunken and devoid of intelligent light, but even then… something happened. She knelt down to the child, never breaking eye contact.
“Why do you cry, child? What is your prayer?” Babel asked. She’d done it without thinking, originally believing it was just old habits from her earliest days. She would grow to understand better, then later on forget.
The little boy’s face scrunched back into sadness as he looked down, hiccupping as he cried. “I want my mom.”
“Where is your mother, child?”
“She left. I don’t know what I did wrong, I promise I could do better!” the boy cried out, and in a moment of weakness Babel wrapped her arms around him, feeling her own heart breaking. Maybe due to her own trauma that was still fresh, or perhaps some latent instincts. She wished she could help him. Though… how? She was Babel, a Tutelary. She had seen and helped many parturients in her time give birth to healthy children, but had never had any of her own, nor had she ever helped raise one. There was an itch in the back of her mind, something bugging her just outside of her periphery.
“Child, as I am, I am weak and near powerless. I cannot do as you need… but… I can be your mother. Your new mother. It will take time for me to come back, but I promise I will,” Babel said to the small boy, feeling him cry into her more. “I promise…”
***
Babel held her head in her hands, her eyes wide in horror. “Why can’t I remember this through my eyes? Why is it only through you, Meta?”
“We’re unraveling,” Meta said, causing Babel to look at her in shock. “We’ve been unraveling for almost seven hundred years. It was a long time to be formless, trapped in a bottle with little to no energy.” Meta looked up at Babel. “We’re only treading water with the energy we have.”
“What is it you want me to do, then? If we’re unraveling our time is nearly up. We’re on borrowed time anyhow,” Babel said, sinking to her knees in defeat.
“Use me. Weave me into her, and with the last ounce of my own strength I’ll be able to restore her. I can’t do it on my own. It has to be you.”
Babel snorted incredulously. “I do that, and my limited time gets shorter.”
“You know why you’re drawn to her. Why you’re always pulled back and why you insisted on helping her, why you insist on your insane notion of forcing her physical transformation. Everything you’ve done has been to bring her happiness. Even in your broken way, you’ve been hoping to foster some form of mother-like relationship with her. If we couldn’t live our life with the dignity we wanted, let’s at least die with it.”
Babel thought about it for a few moments, taking her time to truly consider everything. “Fine.”
***
TWO WEEKS LATER
Danny sat up in her bed with a start, the heart-monitor she was hooked up to showing the spike from adrenaline. The nurse who had been in to check her vitals jumped back a good foot in shock, and didn’t wait as she went to get someone else. Danny tried to blink to make the light of the fluorescents less bright on her eyes. She groaned, feeling more than a little queasy as she turned around in her bed, trying to orient herself to her surroundings.
She was surprised to find her hair tickling her ears and shoulders as it gently swayed as she did. Then again… why was she surprised?
The door opened and Ariana practically flew to Danny, wrapping her arms around her. Danny chuckled, noting an irritating vocal crack as she did. “Oh my God, I thought you were never going to wake up.”
“I’m sorry Ariana, I didn’t mean to scare you… I think,” Danny said, her expression becoming puzzled.
“You think?”
“Yeah… um… what happened? I don’t really remember much,” Danny said, smiling nervously, running her fingers through her hair.
“How much do you remember?” Ariana asked, looking back to see another man and woman entering the room.
“I… remember you, my name, where I live… and… something about a scary man. That’s about it,” Danny said apologetically.
“Truthfully, with the extent of the trauma to your brain, I’m surprised you have any memories, let alone the ability to wake up,” the man said, pulling up a chair. “We’d almost gotten ready to write you off as comatose.”
Danny smiled warmly, taking Ariana’s hand and caressing her own cheek with it affectionately. “Naw, no way. Mother would have made sure I woke up eventually,” she said happily.
“Who?” the man asked.
“My mother,” Danny said, as if somehow repeating the answer was the correct response.
“Danny… are you talking about Babel?” Ariana asked, looking slightly concerned.
Danny cracked another smile and nodded. “Yes, of course she’s my mother! It would be weird if she wasn’t.”
“Why is that, Danny?” the man probed.
“Well, for starters…” Danny jumped out of the bed spryly, filling herself on the attention she was garnering and loving every moment of it, “I’m a Demon, aren’t I?” She stretched herself, popping her back and neck, showing no signs of soreness or weakness from weeks in bed. She tousled her hair and smiled brightly, unconcerned with their expressions. “Listen, I’m okay now! I want to go out and have fun!”
Even though Danny smiled infectiously, it was hard to ignore the fangs.
"bit*h tits!" She held her hand over her eye, groaning in displeasure. "You threw a f*cking remote at me!?"
Hah, I kinda hope this becomes a running gag. Situation defusal via skillfully thrown household objects. A bar of soap, a TV remote...
Hopefully some of Danny's identity can be recovered... somehow, maybe, eventually. Feels a tiny bit like discount identity death.
Truth be told I don't do identity death. I squicks me out way too much. Much rather just brutally murder a character.
Now that is a quite interesting development. I truly hope Babel isn't gone though.