#Hayloft was on an Engineer one and i was like yeah alright that actually works pretty well

[hellafluff]

ohhhhh i get the Hayloft on Every Playlist thing now. yeah thats fucking annoying

#im listening to random TF2 character playlists on spotify #Hayloft was on an Engineer one and i was like yeah alright that actually works pretty well #but why the FUCK is it on this Medic playlist??? #im not thinking about that post by 1percentcharge thats about how bubblegum bitch can be on any character playlist #and honestly? i think medic deserves to be miss sugar pink lick her liquor lips #crazee talk

[theboywithburninghands]

So I pushed through my writer's block. Here's the newest Funnybunny thing. Uh, well, sorta. It's got shipping stuff in it, but most of it is just Jax and getting into his thoughts, and a really nasty encounter with something horrible. The... fun kind of horrible though. Yeah, word of warning, this is a pretty violent little ditty, so if you're squeamish, I'd say either sit this one out or don't eat while reading? I'm damn proud of it either way LOL T/W: Violence, gore, vomit, horror

Reap What You Sow

Jax slid down the tube slide with his hands behind his head. You fall through enough trapdoors and they start to lose their shock value. The slide dropped into a pit full of something cottony and plush. Jax crinkled up his face upon recognizing what he just landed in. Corn silk. The cloyingly sweet smell of corn made him queasy, and he’d be picking strings of silk off of his clothes for hours. 

Jax: Not scary. Just annoying.

Jax climbed out of the pit, doing his best to dust himself off. Silk drifted off of him like hair off a shedding St. Bernard. After he was reasonably clean, he approached the door in front of him and nudged it open with his food. 

Inside was what appeared to be a disused barn, or at least an imitation of one. It was divided into a ground floor and a hayloft. The ground floor had only two things of note, a door, which appeared to be locked, and a tractor. One of those old fashioned ones that curved in the middle and had big wheels that looked more like those on a kid’s wagon than farm equipment. It was caked with rust and would probably crumble into scrap metal if someone managed to start the engine. A rickety wooden ladder led up into the hayloft above. Jax hummed and gripped one leg of the ladder, shaking it. Seemed climbable enough. 

Jax went over to the locked door, finding some words scratched into it with what looked like a knife.

Jax: “In your eye, a promise kept 

Through my eye, a line is swept

I trace the day, a circle spun

A hole in skin, a scarf begun. 

But beware, do not guess wrong

Or they will find you before long.”

Jax sniffed at the poem. Riddles, huh? Cute. Caine must’ve spent a while finding rhymes. Jax examined the lock, pausing to pick another piece of corn silk off his glove. He tried a few of the keys he had in his pocket, but they were all too thick. It was a pretty heavy padlock too, no real way to pick it. 

So what was the riddle for? In your eye, a promise kept… waaaait a minute. He was surrounded by hay. What did you go looking for in a stack of hay?

Jax: “Stick a needle in my eye.” Alright, fair point, Caine.

He smiled a bit at his deduction,  but now came the actual needle in a haystack part. He sighed, cracked his knuckles and began to climb up the ladder. It squeaked in protest a bit at Jax’s weight, and the third rung from the top made an ominous crunch when he stepped on it. He’d have to skip that one on the way down.

The hayloft was full of… well, hay. It might’ve been in bales once, but now it was a big, messy pile strewn over the baseboards. The hay on top was the usual healthy yellow color, but the hay on the bottom was damp and brown. Jax caught a whiff of rotten hay, the smell almost indistinguishable from horse manure. He looked around for a pitchfork or a shovel to make his life easier, but no such luck.

He sighed again, then began to toss hay off the loft, two handfuls at a time. It would have been easier with the others around. Heck, he could have just made the excuse that he wanted to watch for monsters down below while the others dug around in the hay. 

…Nah, it probably wouldn’t go that way anymore, actually. Pomni would scold him for it, or worse, give him those sad, wet puppy dog eyes. And then he’d do it so she’d want to cuddle with him later. 

…That, and it did feel nice to make her happy. Weird how that worked. 

Jax: *sudden coughing fit* Ugh… *hocks and spits* 

Damn haydust… it was like inhaling sand. He was gonna be feeling the grit in his throat for the rest of the day too. Man, he would have pulled out one of his teeth for a bottle of water and a hot shower right about now… Caine probably would have just thrown boiling hot soapy water on him if he asked, then told him to drink said boiling hot soapy water. Idiot.

Whatever. Maybe after the adventure he could go swim in the lake. If he did, Pomni might tag along. Or maybe she wouldn’t, since Ragatha was a thing in their relationship now. …Nah, she could come too. He could play nice with her for a little while. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember a time when he and Ol’ Rags had ever actually hung out together. He wasn’t opposed to the idea. Other than Pomni she was probably the least annoying person in the circus. Sure, the overly smiley persona got annoying, but… it was… refreshing now and then. So sure. She could come with. Actually, thinking about it, could she even swim…? He’d never seen her in swimwear. 

…Not a terrible image to conjure up… 

Jax stopped to cough again. If Caine’s idea of an adventure had gotten to the point of just doing manual labor, the future looked bleak. He cringed backwards upon touching the rotten hay on the bottom, wiping his hand on his overalls. He wasn’t digging through that with his hands, Caine could sit and spin. He hocked and spat one more time to futilely try and get some of the grit out of his throat, then began to climb back down the ladder. Maybe the needle was in the hay he’d already thrown onto the floor. Even if it wasn’t, there had to be something down there to help him shovel the-

The pile of rotten hay shifted. Jax froze mid step down the ladder, watching the pile of rancid mush churn about, before a small patch of it slid off the greater mass with an unceremonious plop, revealing-

Revealing a-

Jax: What…?

A single red eye, the size of a beach ball, swiveled around from under the hay. Hateful, malevolent, and all too familiar. It was here. 

Jax automatically put his foot onto the next rung on the ladder, determined to leave Its line of sight and wait until It fell back asleep. His stomach squeezed into a knot when the third rung on the ladder messily snapped in two like a stale loaf of bread. His chin thwacked against the floor of the hayloft and he fell a good ten feet to the barn floor. The hay softened his landing a bit, but not much, and he felt a dull, ringing pain in his chin and lower back. He scrabbled to his feet, slipping a bit on the hay, and risked a glance up at the loft.

Its eyes, burning red like irons left in the hearth, leered down at him. Well, hello, little rabbit. How nice of you to come visit. And just in time, I’m famished…

Jax: I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming! Wake up, wake up! *slaps himself in the face# You got too hot in bed, that’s all, wake UP-

Jax yelled in frustrated terror as It lazily flopped over the edge of the hayloft, sending a shower of rotten straw clumps everywhere. Jax’s eyes darted around the area for anything that might help, something to use as a weapon or that needle where was the needle WHERE WAS THE GODDAMN NEEDLE-

Rowstalker: Gnnnnnnnnn…..

It snarled, peeling back Its lips to reveal Its irregular, shattered glass teeth and blight-blackened gums. Those teeth which hurt so badly in mere dreams were now real, and they could finally shred his skin off as easily as peeling an overripe orange. Jax scurried onto the back of the old tractor, desperate for any sort of high ground, not that it would help. It could do anything to catch him… 

Jax: Caine, this isn’t FUNNY! GET RID OF IT RIGHT NOW, DO YOU HEAR ME?!

It bellowed at him, and Jax felt nausea lurch in his stomach. The stench of Its breath was like 100-year-old corn cobs and pulverized animal carcasses rotting on a freeway. He felt his breakfast snake back up his gullet and leaned over the side of the tractor to vomit, a stream of black sludge with a rainbow sheen, like an oil slick. He could have sworn he heard It snort in amusement. “Poor thing, whatever will you do when you’re inside my mouth? Well, don’t worry, you won’t have to put up with it for long after I gnaw your head off and slurp your spine through your neck.”

Rowstalker: Gnnnnnn… CHRRR! 

It lunged for him, missing his leg by centimeters and plunging Its teeth into the left tire of the tractor. Air rushed out of it in an alarmed hiss and Jax fell backwards over the driver’s seat, his head colliding with the steering wheel. Through the smeary lights now dancing in his vision, he saw It pull Its teeth from the tire, air spouting out of it with an almost relieved sigh as the tractor sagged to the left. Jax dimly groped around for the steering wheel so he could hoist himself up before It lunged for him again. His hand slid across the dashboard, accidentally clicking a few powerless switches, and his glove nearly slipped when it ran over the slick, circular face of the odometer. 

Odometer. Something was important about the odome- 

This hesitation, coupled with the haze of hitting his head, led to him being unprepared for Its next attack. He jerked upwards a moment too late as It pounced for him, successfully plunging Its front teeth several inches into his right foot. Jax screamed, his voice raspy from the dusty air. In his dreams, this was where it ended. Once It had him, there was no escape. It would eat him now, immediately chewing him into a wet and mushy wad or worse, take Its time, snapping off his arms and legs first and saving his head for last so the pain lasted as long as possible- 

But… this wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t paralyzed in his bed by sleep. He could move. He could survive. If he didn’t survive, they would never go swimming. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted something. He wanted to go swimming. He was going to go swimming. 

Jax: What big teeth you have…! *hoists himself up so he can reach Its mouth and punches one of Its misshapen teeth with all his strength*

It let out a garbled roar of pain and surprise, Its tooth snapping inwards at an odd angle, rotten fluid dribbling out of the partially exposed socket. It let go of Jax’s foot to recoil, shaking Its head around violently. Had It ever actually felt pain before..? No, It couldn’t have. It was against the rules!

Jax looked at the bloodless hole It had left in the middle of his foot. Light shone right through it, and it sparked and stuttered with a glitchy shimmer. Caine’s creations weren’t supposed to hurt them this badly, anything beyond typical “stars and birdies” cartoon nonsense. That could wait, though, he had an opening. 

Jax risked a quick glance at the odometer. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt that it was somehow important. The faceplate was marred and scratchy, so he could barely see the numbers or needle- 

Needle. Of course. 

Jax elbowed the faceplate, shattering it like sugar glass. He glanced back at It, which was still reeling from Its sudden dental luxation, and he stuck his hand into the odometer. Sure enough, he retrieved a long, thin silver key from inside, a fragile little thing no thicker than a sewing needle. 

Rowstalker: GNNNNCCHHHHH!

It made a full bodied lunge for Jax, the rabbit diving off the tractor and belly flopping onto the straw covered floor. The needle-key skittered across the floor and vanished into the hay.

Jax: Nononono-NO! 

Jax attempted to stand but cried out. The massive hole in his foot flared with pain as he tried to put weight on it, jolting with glitchy after-effects as he fell back onto the floor. He glanced over his shoulder and saw It climbing around on the now upturned tractor, no doubt priming Itself to pounce. He frantically climbed forward and sifted through the hay, rotten and fresh, to find the key. A faint glint in a small pile up ahead, there it was! Jax lurched forward and gripped the key, just in time for It to leap off Its perch and land right on top of him. 

Its body was crushingly heavy and Its skin was clammy and squamous, like a reptile or worm, but nauseatingly hot at the same time. It reared back and opened Its vile maw, infected drool, rancid corn juice and a few fat cutworms raining down on Jax’s face. It lunged forward, intent on closing Its jaws around Jax’s upper half, pulling it right off of his hips with one vicious tug. Jax, yelling right back at the creature, swung his left hand, clenched around the needle key, right at one of It’s bloated, scarlet eyes. 

There was a noise like a straw being jabbed through a plastic lid, and It stopped moving. Its maw hung agape in shock. Jax clutched the key, the blade wedged into Its right eye all the way up to the bow. Without a second thought, he cranked his wrist, cutting through the vitreous humor with a fetid, wet squelch. 

It yowled in agony as crimson jelly gushed out of its eye. It wasn’t supposed to feel pain! That’s not allowed! That’s-

Jax, using his uninjured left foot, pushed The Rowstalker off of him with all of his adrenal strength. It tumbled off of him with remarkable ease, still trying in vain to process the amount of pain It was experiencing. It thrashed about on the floor, red phlegm-like goo pouring from Its eye. Jax limped to the exit door, sliding in the needle key with a rather nauseating squishy noise, not bothering to look behind him as he slammed the door shut behind him, leaving him in utter darkness. There was the click of an automatic lock. It couldn’t reach him now. 

He… beat It. 

He slumped against the door. He panted hard and fast for a good five minutes. His foot bloomed with horrible pain, and he grasped it weakly. He probably couldn’t walk on it until Caine fixed him. Caine.

Oh, he was gonna KILL Caine… Later. 

Another door opened across the way, beaming a shaft of light across the dark area. Jax tried to scramble to his feet, but found himself unable to on account of the enormous gaping hole in his foot and how achingly tired he was. Pomni: …Jax? Is that you..? Oh my God, what happened?!

Jax relaxed and fell back onto his butt. Pomni. Pomni and someone else. But Pomni most importantly. His eyes hurt. 

Ragatha: Jax, your foot..! Wh-How did th- a- *coughs, covers her mouth and nose* Oh, you reek! Did you roll around in compost?! 

Jax: Speak for yourself, Rags.  The response came automatically, along with his usual cheeky grin, but it was shaky with  exhaustion. Pomni approached him and gave him a hug, although she held her breath as she did so. Jax savored the hug. Sure, they probably weren’t safe yet. But… he had fought off his worst nightmare. And it was thanks to her. He was… really tired. 

Jax: …I love you guys.

Jax closed his eyes.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc jax #funnybunny #horror #jax x pomni #oh no cringe #bunnydoll #jax x ragatha

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.3

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!

Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2

_________________________________

“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.

Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.

You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”

With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.

“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.

Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.

“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.

“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.

“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.

You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”

“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.

“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.

Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”

You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”

Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”

You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”

You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.

He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.

That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”

Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.

You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.

He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”

“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.

“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”

You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”

Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.

This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.

“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.

They tell me not to write of love

but what else can I write –

when love is in my heart and soul

and mind both day and night?

“You’re just too young and you can’t know

of love,” (does anyone?)

“you can’t profess such knowledge –

stick to verse and pun.”

.

They tell me that, and say love poems

are worn out through and through

but I can’t agree with them,

for me love is brand new.

Feelings in me can’t stay down,

my love for him I can’t ignore,

somehow it’s got to be expressed,

“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”

.

To those who stick to subjects

of the sky and stars, of joy and pain

I write my poems of love because

my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.

Perhaps they too shall love again.”

You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.

Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.

"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.

"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.

Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."

A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.

"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."

He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”

***

"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."

You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."

Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.

Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.

“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.

You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.

It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.

With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.

He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.

“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.

Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”

You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”

“What you mean?” Arvin asked.

You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”

You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.

Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”

You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”

He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”

You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”

He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”

“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”

Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”

This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.

“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”

“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”

A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.

Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”

“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.

You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”

Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”

Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”

You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”

“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”

The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”

“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”

Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.

"I'm sorry you lost your sister."

"I'm sorry you lost yours too."

After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.

"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"

Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."

You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."

You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"

Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."

Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.

Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."

"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.

"What about you?" He asked.

You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."

"You ever had a boyfriend?"

You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.

“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.

You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.

Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”

The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.

“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”

“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”

A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.

Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.

“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?

__________________

Taglist:

@peterswebshooters

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

@femmme-xxx-fatale

@kittyformannn

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russel imagines #arvin russell #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt fic #tdatt x reader #tdatt #tdatt imagine #the devil all the time

[aliveprofessor]

Don’t Be Afraid Of The Dark

rating: M

word count: 11742

archive warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

personal warnings: Minor character death, demons, knives. Stay safe and don’t read if you have troubles with these things!

description: Ryan Bergara and Shane Madej - full-time independent ghost hunters. But when they happen upon a small town and unleash like, actual, literal Hell upon it, their lives won't be the only ones changed.

There's more cliches, too. Don't worry about that.

A/N: LISTEN i know this is super super long but let me just thank @lesbiancleophas​, @thepossessionofshanemadej​, and @crappylittledemon​ for betaing this!!! without y'all this would pretty much be illegible, thank u for making my dumb brain words entertaining <3

READ IT ON AO3!

You got me running like a spider in a bathtub.

Andrew had not wanted to start his morning with strangers in his town. He watched from the loading dock in the hayloft, Riceball in his arms. The farm was sprawled out behind him, his house just to the left of the barn. An unpaved road stretched on for a few miles before turning into the main road into town. Andrew liked his little vantage point, away from everything, but seeing people turn onto the road that led to their house, and then turn and go back into town, was unsettling.

  “I don’t like this, Rice,” he frowned. “I don’t like this at all.”

  Eventually, Steven figured out where his recluse of a boyfriend had holed up. He called from the ground outside.

  “They’re just strangers, Drew! They don’t bite!”

  Andrew pouted, but made his way down the stairs. Steven greeted him with the same sunshine smile that Andrew had fallen in love with, and maybe - don’t tell Steven, though - Andrew fell even more in love than before.

  Steven scratched Riceball’s cheeks and cooed to him, and Ragdoll let out a small chirp.

  “I love you.”

  The words escaped Andrew’s lips before he could stop himself; it was the first time he’d ever said them out loud.

  Maybe it was just because he was up so early and he thought them so hard that they exploded out into the brisk air without his permission - but whatever the reason, they were out there.

  “ Oh ,” Steven said, beaming. He kissed Andrew hard, Riceball scratching Steven on her way out of Andrew’s embrace. Andrew smiled into the kiss, bringing Steven closer.

  “For the record - I love you too,” Steven murmured. “I know how hard that was for you, and I appreciate you in my life so, so much -”

  “Just shut up and keep kissing me before I have to talk to the shmucks that showed up today,” Andrew interrupted, and Steven was glad to oblige.

  The sound of engines made their inevitable appearance in the driveway, and Steven stilled, hand on Andrew’s chest.

  Steven patted him, glancing down at his well-fitted shirt. “Another time,” he said, convincing himself as much as he was Andrew.

  A two-door jeep rounded the corner of the winding dirt road that led to the barn, and two men hopped out of the front seats. Another pushed the passenger’s seat forward and unfolded himself from the back.

  Steven greeted them, hand outstretched. “How can I be of service to you gentlemen?”

  The taller one - and that was an understatement - grinned. “I hear you got ghosts?”

  The other man was about Andrew’s height, with black hair and wide eyes. He smacked his companion’s shoulder.

  “Shane. We just met them. Chill.”

  He turned to Steven. “Sorry about my partner. He’s a bit forward. I’m Ryan, this is Shane. We have a YouTube series where we hunt ghosts. We’ve heard a lot of stories about your barn.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Steven sucked in a breath. “... The barn.”

 Andrew turned to introduce them to the building - and God, it could not have been creepier if there had been a storm and a clap of lightning and thunder. The wood was starting to rot, vines crawled up the sides of the building and seemed to move on their own, and the shadows inside seemed too dark, too cold. The paint had faded to brown - dusty and dark, and in different spots the paint peeled to reveal the original wood. The whole thing felt so off from the rest of the farm, which was teeming with life. The barn just reeked of death.

  It had taken Andrew forever to warm up to the barn, and he was still uneasy in certain spots. It wasn’t like it was falling apart, but it creaked all the time, and doors closed and opened on their own - and sometimes, Andrew heard a voice or saw shadows.

  For a while, Steven had been worried about Andrew’s mental health - which, if someone seemed like they might be hallucinating, was fair. But then Steven began to see the same things Andrew did. The worst part was that they weren’t rare occurrences. Almost every other week, there would be a minor incident.

  By the time their first six months had been up, they’d sort of gotten used to it.

  But only sort of.

  “So…” Steven prompted, waiting for Shane or Ryan to finish.  “We want to film some; investigate some,” he said, smiling hopefully. “Maybe… stay the night in the barn?”

  Steven glanced to Andrew, shrugging. Andrew shook his head. He just met these people - he didn’t want them in his barn.

  “Sure!” Steven said, through gritted teeth, shooting Andrew a pointed glare. “Would y’all like something to eat? There’s no activity in the house, but we could show you around and have you over for supper before the sun goes down.”

  “That sounds super !” Shane exclaimed, looking incredibly pleased, “Ryan, do you want to get some shots of the barn?” He looked to Andrew, who nodded his ascent; and the pair took off excitedly.

  Once they were out of sight, Andrew pulled Steven aside, hissing. “Why would you let them stay in our barn ? I work there!”

  “I work there too, sweetheart,” Steven rolled his eyes, “They seem like nice guys. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you sleep on the couch with your pocket knife.”

  Andrew frowned, but didn’t feel like arguing any longer. “Alright. But they only stay the night. I want them gone before noon tomorrow.”

  Steven nodded, pecking Andrew on the cheek. “I really do love you. I’m sorry I invited two strangers into our house.”

  “That southern hospitality is really starting to get to you,” Andrew chided, thumbs rubbing circles into Steven’s arm. “It’s okay - I’m just a grumpy asshole.”

  “But you’re my grumpy asshole, and I love you,” Steven said, the emotion in his eyes melting Andrew from the inside out. Andrew cupped Steven’s face and brought him in for another kiss.

  Andrew broke apart and as the sun peaked in the sky, he murmured, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  But Andrew and Steven had work to do that day - watering the fields and working on their marketing. A surprising amount of their work was done online - creating an appealing website and making it their own, reaching out to farmer’s markets… it was a lot.

  At four, the two men - intruders, in Andrew’s mind - showed back up and knocked on the door. “Thank you so much for inviting us in for dinner,” Ryan said, grin wide on his face.

  As Steven let them into the house, Andrew finished up a nice little dinner for them - brisket, mac ‘n cheese, bitter greens, and lemonade. It was comfort food, mostly for Andrew’s benefit. He took the mac ‘n cheese out of the oven, setting it on a potholder on the table. Already on the table were the bitter greens and the brisket, which Andrew had roasted about an hour beforehand. He got out four cups and the pitcher of lemonade, and looked upon his masterpiece. It really did feel cathartic to cook like that again - he’d definitely put a bit of effort into how everything was arranged and it showed, and it was nice to have something to be proud of.

  Andrew hoped he could have a redo with Ryan and Shane; he’d been particularly standoffish that morning, and he didn’t really know why. He still didn’t feel very at ease , letting two strangers into his barn to spend the night, but usually he could pretend to be hospitable for a bit.

  He’d definitely take Steven up on that offer of sleeping on the couch with his knife.

  He smiled as the three men walked into the kitchen. Ryan and Shane had wanted to keep their shoes on, but Steven had them take them off. He was very particular about the carpet.

  Steven served the food, stranding Andrew out on small talk duty. “So… how did you hear about our farm?”

  “I think the previous owners messaged us… a year ago?” Ryan looked to Shane, who nodded, “I dunno, I didn’t realize the owners had been switched. I thought you’d be the Laupers, but obviously -”

  “We’re huge flaming homos?” Andrew joked, and Ryan wheezed out a laugh. “Yeah, I figured we don’t really fit the nuclear family aesthetic they left behind. Notice how this house feels like it crawled out of the fifties? So did they. Anyway, as far as I know, they’re retired in some RV park in Florida.”

  “Well, I’m glad we can still do the episode,” Shane grinned, “Our viewers can get pretty aggravated if we don’t have the season ready on time”

  “Our lateness is kind of a meme, really,” Ryan laughed, sharing a lingering gaze with Shane. Andrew raised an eyebrow at Steven in a silent question. Andrew took off his apron and oven mitts and took his own seat, digging into the food he’d waited so long to eat.

  Everyone else seemed to take that as the cue to eat. “This is really fucking good,” Ryan said through a mouthful of bitter greens.

  Shane gently smacked his arm. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” He said, with his mouth full. Ryan swallowed and stuck his tongue out at Shane, leaving Andrew and Steven in hysterics. He could see why their show was popular - they were hilarious to watch, their chemistry was electric and witty and it sucked you right in. They chatted all evening, the sun fading at eight.

  “You’re absolutely positive you’re fine with this?” Ryan said hesitantly as Steven led him and Shane to the barn. Steven assured them, and Andrew watched from the porch. He frowned into the distance, a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach.

  He shrugged it off, going back inside and doing the dishes, trying to work off his lingering anxiety. By the time he was done with the dishes, his hands were trembling and his heart was racing. He hadn’t felt that bad since… well, he didn’t like to talk about it. Steven found him leaning against the soapy counter, getting his shirt wet, trying to breathe and calm down.

  Steven took Andrew’s hands in his own. “It’s gonna be okay, Drew. They’re good people. I made sure all the windows were locked.”

  Andrew nodded, throat tight. Steven kissed him gently, prying him off the counter and making him go lie down so he could finish the dishes. Amidst Andrew’s protests, Steven managed to shoo him off. Andrew was grateful for a dark room, really, he was. But the anxiety still lingered in his chest.

  He held Steven close that night.

  .o0o.

  Ryan Steven Bergara had not been expecting to see a gay couple canoodling on the driveway when he pulled into the Laupers’ residence. He’d been up since four that morning, so everything about Steven and Andrew had startled him. The barn had startled him more.

  Steven relayed the stories of the barn and, unfortunately, Ryan soaked it all up. He wondered how the Laupers lived there for so long - and Shane rebutted in his usual style.

  “Because ghost aren’t real , Ryan,” He rolled his eyes, “And, anyway, old people are crazy.”

  “And you’re an asshole,” Ryan nudged Shane harshly with his shoulder, “C’mon, let’s wander for the rest of the day. I’ve heard some pretty wild stories about this town.”

  And so, they walked around the rest of the day, vlogging camera in hand, just talking about the town’s odd history.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Shane’s brow was furrowed as they sat on a bench after stopping for ice cream, “This town was founded by a serial killer, has allegedly housed Jesse James, has had a ripe history of occultists, and has had an almost record-shattering number of homicides and suicides per capita.”

  “Well, I think if there’s any place that’ll get you to concede that ghosts are real, it’s here,” Ryan said, leaning back on the bench. Around them, people played, seemingly unaware of the town’s past. “And, anyway, that barn gave me the heebie jeebies and it was like, nine in the morning when we saw it.”

  “I will admit that something about that barn made me anxious,” Shane frowned, “But then again, it does appear to have never been touched since nineteen seventy-nine.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “Just eat your ice cream, longlegs.”

  Ryan turned off the camera, relaxing a bit and biting some of the chocolate shell off his ice cream. Shane, seemingly immune to anything that afflicts human beings, ate his ice cream without regard for his teeth or brain. Ryan was appalled. “I can’t believe you. Where should we get lunch? I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

  Shane let out an indecisive noise, eyes darting around main street. “The barbeque place smelled good.”

  Ryan nodded, taking a minute to finish his ice cream before walking with Shane to “ Habersburger ”. There was a woman at the register, a lovely looking brunette with a smile that lit up the room. Around the room was a bar, several tables and booths, and a small stage.

  “Howdy!” The woman at the register asked. People laughed uproariously from a nearby table. “My name’s Becky, and the giraffe taking orders today is my fiance, Keith. What can I do for you?”

  “Table for two, please,” Ryan smiled back to the beam of sunshine that inhabited the town. Becky seated them near a window.

  She passed out the menus. “So how long have y’all been together?”

  Shane had this weird little smile on his face as Ryan spluttered. “We’re not together - just friends.”

  “And you’re not out with anyone else on such a beautiful day?”

  What was she trying to prove? Ryan thought as Shane spoke again.

  “We’re filming for our show. We’re going ghost hunting at Ilnyckyj’s.”

  Becky nodded, seemingly convinced. “Ah. Keith will be right with you darlings.”

  Ryan thought the town was doing well for one with such a dismal history. He played footsie for a while with Shane under the table while he scrolled on his phone. Eventually, a tall blond man with another radiant smile showed up at the table.

  “Your gorgeous waiter today is Keith,” He introduced himself, “Try not to fall in love.”

  Ryan and Shane both were in stitches by the time Keith left, and the food was delicious, too.

  “How can such an amazing place exist in such a small town?” Ryan asked, stirring his Sprite, full and happy. A band had gotten up on stage and was playing, sweet bluegrass pouring out the front door.

  Of course, Ryan thought the bluegrass music was sweet until he really stopped to listen . Songs about death, of people… killing their husbands. Pleasant.

  “What the fuck is wrong with this music?” Ryan whispered to Shane as four men sang in beautiful harmony. The bass player, fiddler, banjo player, and lead vocalist all seemed perfectly at peace singing about a “river of death”.

  “I dunno,” Shane said, “I think it’s kinda pretty.”

  “Of course you do. Let’s get out of here and sightsee.”

  “Goin’ so soon?” Keith pouted, arms overflowing with plates. “Well, at least let me recommend you the Museum Of Angels - it’s about our town’s history. Very cool. Right up your alley, I think.”

  And with that, Keith was gone. Ryan shrugged to Shane, who just shrugged back. And they set out on their next endeavor.

  The Museum Of Angels - complete with a ghost tour - sat on the outskirts of town. It looked much smaller on the outside than it was in reality, halls full of history set before Ryan.

  He and Shane spent hours absorbed in the museum, a time capsule of the murders and plagues and cults and natural disasters of the town.

  And sure, Ryan got some good shots in, but nobody could capture the look on Shane’s face when he was truly absorbed in something. Maybe Shane didn’t agree with the ghost part of the museum’s message, but he read every body of text in that museum. Ryan certainly could feel something stirring in his chest - a long-dead crush that seemed to resurrect itself at random. Ryan figured that’s what you get for repressing something that deeply - but little twinges of affection were so much better than hopelessly pining after someone who was almost certainly straight.

  Ryan could barely figure himself out, anyway - how could he begin to figure out Shane?

  With the bitterness now scratching at his throat, Ryan gathered himself and coughed a bit. “Let’s get going soon, Shane, it’s almost four.”

  “We’ve spent three hours here?” Shane asked, still absorbed in some paragraph about a mother who’d drowned her husband and two children, “Wow - that’s - man . Can we come back here sometime?”

  “‘Course,” Ryan said, voice almost breaking in trying not to speak too softly to Shane. He wanted so desperately to hold his hand and say I love you because - oh God - he loved Shane.

  He loved Shane; he loved his asshole attitude and his freaky long legs and his love of history and his humor and his kindness that was just below the surface. Ryan loved Shane and maybe in the middle of a museum about death wasn’t the ideal place to realize it but it happened and Ryan needed a minute but he couldn’t take it and he couldn’t breathe .

  Ryan kept walking. Eventually his heart calmed down and his face returned to normal Tennessee sweatiness instead of furious blushing. Ryan walked with Shane back to their Jeep, all the equipment still in back, and Shane set off to Steven’s again. The wind still whipped Ryan’s hair around and maybe he was enjoying it immensely and maybe he felt a little free when he rode in the Jeep and maybe it was the best fucking feeling in the world and maybe Ryan was starting to realize how close it was to when Shane smiled at him.

  The Jeep pulled up to the barn again and Ryan spent the walk to the door pushing his feelings somewhere the sun didn’t shine.

  .o0o.

  After dinner, Shane and Ryan were to stay the night in the barn. Shane felt his apprehension return. Even after Steven had assured them that the hay loft was perfectly fine - they didn’t even have hay up there - Shane would’ve felt much better sleeping on the ground. As much as he hated to admit it, there was just something that creeped him out about the barn. And usually, he could chalk it up to disgust; there was just something so fitting about the word creep that it stuck in Shane’s brain like glue to paper. It felt like he was being followed. It sucked.

  “This place sucks ,” Ryan hissed as soon as they got into the ancient structure, the empty stalls echoing Ryan’s sentiment back to him. Shane saw the camera out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t reply. Something about Ryan’s statement rang too true.

  Shane gritted his metaphorical teeth. “I think you’re imagining things.”

  “Oh, just like you always do, gigantor,” Ryan rolled his eyes. “So - can we get past the part where you taunt the demons and get to the part where we try to sleep and I don’t?”

  “Why don’t I let you have a minute alone, first?” Shane grinned, “The most of the activity is reportedly from the quarantine stable, where they kept the sick horses. Why don’t you go stand there for a few minutes with your spirit box or whatever?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ryan nodded, grabbing the spirit box and walking into the quarantine stable. Shane saw him take a deep breath and collect himself, and then he shut the door behind him.

  And suddenly, Shane was left alone in the darkness with nothing but his own thoughts. And for some reason, his thoughts never strayed from Ryan.

  Ryan , with his gorgeous smile and beautiful laugh and soft hair and - Shane wondered how starry-eyed he could get. He smiled softly as he heard Ryan faintly from the closed door.

  Ryan was the bravest person Shane would ever know; he was certain of it. His thoughts were so full of Ryan, Ryan, Ryan , that he barely heard Ryan creep out of the stall.

  “All finished,” He said, weary, “I think I heard a few things, but nothing huge.”

  Shane nodded. “I guess that makes it my turn.”

  Shane walked into the stable and as soon as the door was closed, the room dropped ten degrees. Must be a weird night with the windchill , he thought to himself.

  “Hey demons!” Shane called, “De-mons! De-e-e-e-e-mons! Got anything for me tonight, spooky boys? Got anything for an old pal? Remember when I took the Goatman’s bridge? That’s mine now! And this is gonna be my barn, too!”

  And that’s when Shane heard it - a chuckle. The low battery light on his camera blinked (he needed new ones when he’d replaced them ten minutes ago?). The chuckle only grew louder when Shane tried the door handle and it didn’t work.

  Shane found himself panicking, throwing his body against the door to get it open. As if it were only stuck, it eventually gave way and Shane was thrown from the room, eyes wide and chest heaving.

  “Dude, are you okay?” Ryan asked, reaching for Shane in the darkness. Shane brushed him off, closing himself in. His camera died, beeping loudly before shutting off.

  “I heard something. It was probably just the wind, though,” Shane shook his head, “Oh well - I need new batteries. We’ll have to check the footage in the morning.”

  “I always bring them for demon episodes,” Ryan smiled, handing over a few. Shane exchanged them, grateful when the camera blinked to life. By the time his camera was back online, the feeling of terror had dissipated. Shane could only hope it wouldn’t come back.

  “Well, now that we’ve gone over everything, I think it’s time for us to get some sleep,” Ryan said, nodding to Shane. He still wore a look of concern on his face.

  Shane shook his head minutely, an I’m fine that only Ryan could pick up on, “If you can call it sleep. You’ll keep me up all night with your panicking.”

  Ryan shook his head and laughed. “You asshole. Let’s go upstairs and lay out our sleeping bags.”

  And they did just that, without another word, both of them ever so thankful to share breaths with another human instead of the thing that resided in the corner of the room. Neither of them spoke about it, but they laid their sleeping bags far closer than they normally would.

  “I’m gonna feel like a real idiot listening to tapes of the wind howling tomorrow,” Shane murmured, trying to coax himself into sleep. He kept telling himself he was close to Ryan for Ryan’s comfort - but really, he just needed to be close to someone, to have something to convince himself that the noises in the night were just Ryan rolling over in his sleeping bag.

  .o0o.

  Eugene heard of two strange men that had arrived in town - hell, he’d seen their faces that same day. He heard of the same unsuredness that everyone had greeted Andrew and Steven with. Rumors that they were going to stir up ghosts… and, of course, other rumors. And, as per usual, he thought it was utter bullshit.

  So he maybe turned on the Southern Charm a little more than he usually would have. “Morning, gentlemen, what can I get for you?”

  Eugene ran a diner, a hole-in-the-wall place that made it by sheer force of will. Eugene’s mom and dad had both immigrated from Korea into a tiny town in Tennessee, for what reason Eugene could not fucking place, and they were - as new people often are - greeted with hostility. Eugene had grown up learning all the ways slurs could hurt aside equations. But now that his sisters had left, it was just him: a part of a tiny, insignificant town. Seeing outsiders was rare; seeing outsiders who looked like they’d run a marathon and fought an army on their own was… worrying, to say the least.

  The shorter one had ruffled hair and bloodshot eyes, and the other had eye bags the size of a small dog, and they both looked like they hadn’t changed clothes, like a walk of shame but without the fun part. Eugene thought it best not to ask.

  “Chocolate chip pancakes,” The taller one requested, and the shorter motioned for the same thing. Eugene smiled and told them their order would be right out, yelling to Quinta. Eugene served them some warm milk too. It was his true belief that there was nothing like warm milk for a heavy soul.

  “We didn’t order this,” The shorter said, gesturing to the milk.

  Eugene winked. “It’s on the house. You look stressed.”

  “Thank you,” The taller said, “You have no idea how rough last night was.”

  The shorter  nodded. “Seriously, thanks. I’m Ryan, this is Shane, we’re… new, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Eugene grinned. “Not a problem! Nice to meet y’all.”

  Eugene went back behind the register and eavesdropped a little.

  “Hey, dude, are you okay?” Shane asked, “You probably didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

  Ryan yawned before he replied, proving Shane’s statement. “Nah, ‘m fine, promise.”

  Quinta finished with the pancakes not long after. Eugene looked outside to see a storm beginning to roll in. “Huh - didn’t see that in the forecast.”

  Ryan and Shane exchanged a glance, and Eugene thought maybe there was more to them than met the eye.

  “These pancakes are so fucking good,” Ryan sighed, way too loudly, “Oh - shit - sorry! Wait - fuck -”

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” Quinta said through laughter, “There ain’t nobody here but us.”

  “What fucking time is it anyway?” Eugene wondered, mostly to himself. He checked the clock. “What kind of people wait until after nine thirty to eat breakfast?”

  Another look was shared between Ryan and Shane. “Hey, dude, we’re sorry, but - uhh...”

  “What have you two done?” Eugene asked, feeling a pang of something in his chest. It wasn’t panic, just a… knowing .

  Ryan gulped. “I have a feeling it’s a lot worse than we originally thought.”

  .o0o.

  “Shane - I think we need to get out of here. Soon,” Ryan said as they walked to the Jeep. This time, Shane was in the passenger’s seat, and Ryan was driving.

  “But - listen, Ryan,” Shane pleaded, “I still haven’t finished reading what was in the museum. Please , man, just for one more day? I’ll let you take me on the ghost tour too once the weather clears up.”

  “Fuck you,” Ryan sighed, nodding. They booked a motel with Shane’s debit card, and Shane grinned when Ryan flopped down onto the bed. Luckily, they weren’t in danger of running out of clothes or money any time soon.

  Ryan hoped the rain would stop soon.

  .o0o.

  Steven felt the cold presence of Andrew somehow taken away from him. It was fucking awful - and it was only ten in the morning. It had been a long time coming - Andrew had been distant for a whole day, ever since Ryan and Shane had stayed the night in the barn. Steven had woken up to an empty bed that morning.

  “Babe?” Steven asked after he found him, peering down at his boyfriend  curled up on the couch with the cat. Guilt and anger and insecurity were already starting to rise in his chest. He knew he was jumping to conclusions, but he couldn’t help it.

  Andrew stared into the distance, something that made Steven incredibly uneasy. “Not in the mood, Steven.”

  “Not in the mood for… what?” Steven asked, throat going dry.

  Andrew sat up. “I’m not in the mood for you , Steven. Try again some other time.”

  Steven felt tears in his eyes. “You can’t just not be in the mood for me, Drew! That’s not how relationships work!”

  “It kinda is - and don’t Drew me,” Andrew growled. Riceball, always the coward, had abandoned the couch and run to the bathroom, probably to hide in the sink.

  Something strange overcame him, and all the emotions he didn’t know he was bottling up came out at once. “Y’know, sometimes I don’t feel like I even have a boyfriend! Sometimes I feel like I just have a mannequin who sleeps on the couch all day and pets the cat!”

  “Yeah, well -” Andrew paused for a minute, “It’s not my fault you chose me! Because you did! You chose to be with me! And you can choose to stop.”

“I don’t know where you’ve been for the past few days,” Steven snapped, “But I think Ryan and Shane took a part of you with them. I miss my Drew.”

  “He’s gone, Steven!” Andrew raised his voice, exploding off the couch. “He’s gone - and I’m here.”

  And Andrew’s eyes flicked to black.

  Steven didn’t know how to process what he saw - but there was a part of his brain that was so, so relieved that Andrew wasn’t Andrew. Once he was done being relieved, though, he was terrified.

  “I can hear you thinking,” The demon said, “And I am still some of Andrew. I’m all the parts of him he was afraid to voice before. You know he’s been depressed for years, right? And he never told you. He’d been in all this pain, and you still weren’t trustworthy enough for him to go to.”

  The tears made a forceful return to Steven’s eyes. “That’s a lie! I - I know what it’s like to go through that shit and it’s hard to voice to anyone , even people you’re close to, and -”

  “And he’s not really in love with you,” The demon hissed, “He pities you, he lusts after you - but he’s never really loved you.”

  The color drained from Steven’s face. “He - he -”

  “It’s the truth,” The demon stepped closer to Steven, cupping his face far too gently, “Andrew promised himself to me just to be rid of you.”

  Steven sobbed, trying to flee the house. He made it to the front door and tried the doorknob. It was locked - or, or kept shut or something. Steven whirled around to see some warped version of Andrew’s face, not quite there. Steven’s chest shuddered and his stomach churned and darkness was encroaching the sides of his vision and God , he was going to pass out.

  “I don’t want you gone, I want you with me. Swear yourself to me, darling” The demon purred, “Aw - don’t worry, I can give you a good life in Hell. You’ll be my little pet, pretty thing.” He stroked Steven’s cheek, and Steven pressed himself so hard into the door it hurt.

  He thought, coming to his own conclusion in a matter of seconds. He just needed to know one thing. He forced himself to look the demon in the eyes, and he rasped out, “Will Drew be happy?”

  “I guarantee it,” the demon nodded. “So? What do you say?”

  “I’ll do it,” Steven decided, “Shake on it?”

  Without speaking, the demon grabbed Steven’s face and kissed it, and it burned the image of Not-Quite-Andrew’s face into Steven’s brain. He was gasping for air and no matter how much he struggled, the abyss on the edge of his vision sped closer and closer. Everything felt so… final. Like the sound of a bass drum at the end of a song.

  As his vision faded and his knees gave out, he thought that death like this was a lot more peaceful than someone going to Hell deserved.

  .o0o.

  Shane woke up to a knock on the door. Eugene was there, looking outraged. Shane wished they hadn’t decided to stay in town for a few days just to wait for the stupid ghost tour to start up again.

  “The demon was your fault, right?” Eugene asked, “This… this is all your fault, right?”

  Ryan stirred from his bed, and Shane realized how beat-up Eugene looked. There were cuts littering his knuckles and fingers, and he was in his pajamas and sandals. He looked like he was about half a second away from blowing a fuse.

  Shane spoke, awake enough now to regret not putting anything on over his boxers or changing out of his ratty t-shirt. “I’m sorry if anything happened -”

  “You’re sorry if anything happened? Someone robbed my fucking diner!” Eugene shouted, “I might have to close!”

  “Oh shit,” Ryan said from the other side of the room, stumbling around blindly before finding his glasses and joining Shane at the door, “Dude, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Unfortunately I’m not dead or healthy enough to tear you both a new one,” He growled, “But you two are fixing this. Now .”

  “Well, jeez,” Ryan held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, we’ll fix it.”

  Eugene relaxed a bit, letting out a breath. “Thank you.”

  Eugene’s phone rang, and he picked it up. He gasped, rushing out of the building, leaving Shane and Ryan to stare at the empty space on the concrete outside of their motel as the rain continued to pour and pour and pour.

  Shane turned to Ryan. “I guess this means we need to do some research?”

  Ryan nodded, grabbing Shane’s laptop. They closed the door, leaving it unlocked just in case.

  Hours later, and there were so many sources giving different information that Ryan didn't know which way was forward any more. Salt and holy water and repentance all seemed to be common threads, though.

  Suddenly, Eugene came crashing into their motel room with a stranger, who was covered in a leather jacket, soaking wet, and shivering.

  “This is Ned, and he will be staying with you,” Eugene said in a voice that didn’t leave room for negotiation, “He’s momentarily kicked out because of the demon. Deal with it.”

  And then Eugene was gone again, and Ned was looking terrified. “I’m - I - I’m sorry -”

  “Dude, it’s okay,” Ryan soothed, “Do you want a towel? We’re probably pretty close in size, I can lend you some of my clothes while yours dry.”

  Ned nodded, silent. He stayed silent for the rest of the night, sitting in the corner and staring blankly at the wall. Ryan and Shane worked on putting together a viable plan for chasing the demons out of town.

  Ned stood up, suddenly, as if he realized where he was. “What’s all this about demons?”

  “It’s - uh - kinda my fault,” Shane admitted, “I provoked demons - or, just a demon, I think. It’s my shtick on this show Ryan and I do and I guess this time they were just… real? I dunno, this is all a lot for me.”

  “He didn’t believe in ghosts before this,” Ryan said, “And I guess now the evidence is just -”

  “This is too much to be a coincidence,” Shane conceded, “And while I was in the barn - I saw stuff, heard stuff, felt stuff. It’s - I guess it’s real this time.”

  “I was gonna say compelling, but I guess that works too,” Ryan sang, allowing himself to gloat, and turning back to Ned afterwards, “Anyway, we’re going to chase it out. Do you happen to know a priest?”

  .o0o.

  Eugene paced. When he was anxious, he paced, and now there was all this supernatural bullshit on top of everything else. Ned was in serious danger, and he could feel that several others were too. He felt like he needed to rescue someone, like something horrible was going to happen.

  And he’d had a nightmare. He’d dreamed that he was in Andrew’s barn, staring at a shadow that looked down on him, unblinking and seeing everything in his soul like there was nothing to stop it. But there was something stopping it from attacking - a hand was on his, a comfort amidst the darkness. His chest felt tight, though, like he couldn’t breathe. The thing looked at him, and he felt so deeply afraid that he could feel his heart beating irregularly.

  He could see the barn in clear detail, even in the darkness. He could see strands of hay, the railing that marked the beginning of the stairs, the crescent moon outside the loft. The only thing he couldn’t seem to do was move.

  The shadow struggled against whatever was holding it back, and seemed to disappear. Eugene could tell, though, that it wasn’t really gone.

  So he looked to the hand. It had long fingers and it was a little cold but that was okay because Eugene’s hands were warm. Of course, it didn’t occur to Eugene that, in reality, his hands were always freezing. It made sense in the dream, when Shane’s palm squeezed around his and made him feel like he’d make it through the night.

  Eugene woke up and, for a minute, he could’ve sworn he had Steven’s name on the tip of his tongue - but he couldn’t figure out why.

  .o0o.

  Ryan and Shane approached the barn again, the emptiness of it amplified in the rain. There were noises coming from the house, something that sounded like the howling of wind, but too unearthly, and too vivid for something so far away.

  Despite his best efforts, Ryan felt horrible for neglecting to warn Steven and Andrew. He just… hadn’t been able to find them. He couldn’t find their phone numbers, and they hadn’t replied to their emails, and they’d lost the directions to their place until Eugene could give them the directions. Ryan took comfort in the fact that at least he wouldn’t have to say the words “I’m sorry for raising a demon in your barn” any time soon, according to Eugene.

  Ryan struggled against the rain, holy water in hand. It felt like a security blanket to have, even though Ryan was still anxious about it not working or becoming too diluted in the rain and even as his shirt was soaked and he grew cold to the bone. Shane stood beside him, clearly just as terrified as he was.

  “Remember, don’t let it get to you,” Shane yelled over the booming thunder, “This is only as dangerous as your mind makes it out to be.”

  Ryan honestly didn’t know what to expect - there was so much conflicting information that it terrified him to think of what was behind the door. And then he heard Andrew scream out.

  Ryan crashed through the door, vial of holy water raised, to find Steven holding a knife to Andrew’s neck. “One more step and your blood won’t be the only blood spilled tonight.”

  Steven’s eyes were jet black - but that was an understatement. Steven’s eyes were like negative mass, so empty they beckoned Ryan in a way that felt inevitable.

  “Soon,” The demon crowed, “Soon, soon, soon, my brothers and sisters will arrive, and we will make this town so full of sin it rots from the inside out.”

  Andrew looked petrified, tear tracks on his face. His chest heaved.

  “Get out of my friend!” Ryan cried, rushing the demon and throwing holy water onto it.

  And then, silence fell over the room, and everything slowed down. The demon laughed, pushing Andrew aside, letting him crumple to the floor like a ragdoll.

  Shane rushed to his side.

  “You’re a complete idiot, Ryan Steven Bergara,” The demon’s use of Ryan’s full name sent a horrible chill down his spine. “Did you really believe that old superstition?”

  “It’s not - not a superstition,” Ryan’s eyes widened. “And anyway, I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You sure seem afraid.” The demon grinned, smile contorted and wide, “Are you afraid of me, Ryan?”

  “No!” Ryan said, heart hammering in his chest. Shane and Andrew looked on, completely forgotten.

  The demon narrowed its eyes, hand on Ryan’s chest. “Then why don’t you prove it?”

  Ryan swung his fist at Steven’s face, connecting solidly with his skull. The noise of Ryan’s knuckles cracking against Steven’s head rang out into the dead silent room. The demon blinked back, brown irises flickering in and out of focus.

  “Ow - holy shit!” Steven nearly screamed, gripping his head with his hands and sinking to the floor. His eyes bulged and he trembled.

  Ryan dropped to his knees in front of him. “Dude I’m so fucking sorry - are you okay? Holy shit -”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Steven cried, pressing into his temples and whimpering. Andrew scrambled over, tackling him in a hug.

  “I thought I lost you.”

  “I thought I said shut up,” Steven groaned, curling up tightly in his arms. Andrew kissed his hair, pulling him close.

  The scene was tense, Shane moving to check Ryan’s knuckles, which had started to throb. Shane’s eyes met Ryan’s and for a moment, the danger had passed. Lightning caused the lights to flicker, and Shane swore, disappointed.

  Ryan let Shane hold him, let him rock back and forth on his heels, let the energy heal. He gripped his injured hand in his whole one.

  Slowly, Steven uncurled and let out a long breath.

  “I love you, baby,” Andrew said quietly, choked up. Ryan’s heart ached, a knife in his chest cavity because he could only imagine what it would be like to be that with Shane. It was a quiet ache, though, background to the panic still residing in his chest.

  When Steven had enough of himself back to ask to be alone, Andrew patted Steven’s shoulder. “Thank you. You’re a brave man, Ryan.”

  Ryan looked to Andrew, finding the stony face he’d grown accustomed to looking back. “Of course. Thank you.”

  Ryan and Shane went back to the motel, leaving Andrew to put Steven back together.

  .o0o.

  Andrew cupped Steven’s face, kissing him softly. “I really did think I had lost you, baby. I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to fight off the demon, but he -”

  “Did you?” Steven asked, blinking up at the ceiling, “Because I heard otherwise.”

  Andrew seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the demon said you wanted to get rid of me!” Steven raised his voice, wincing as his headache came back, “That you pitied me and - and you didn’t trust me, and -”

  Steven sniffled and Andrew wanted to cry. “Steven, I - that’s not true. You know it’s not. I’ve never loved someone like I’ve loved you.”

  “The demon said you’d been depressed for a long time and never told me and I -”

  “That’s true,” Andrew muttered, “That part’s true. I just - I didn’t want you to worry. I wanted you to think I was being a lazy asshole and not to think I was just too empty to feel anything because -”

  “I did something horrible,” Steven realized, looking Andrew in the eye, “I thought the demon was telling the truth and I - I sold my soul to it, I think.”

  “For what?”

  “For you to be happy.”

  .o0o.

  Eugene held Ned as he shook. There was something small about his friend that Eugene hadn’t seen since he’d come out.

  “I…” Ned whispered, “My mom kicked me out. She told me she didn’t want a sinner in the house, Eugene.”

  “I’m sorry,” Eugene stroked Ned’s hair, rage flying through his chest. This wouldn’t have happened if Shane and Ryan had known their place. Something in Eugene told him it could only get worse before it got better, and Eugene was terrified of that feeling - especially since his feelings tended to be incredibly accurate as of late.

  Ned looked up to Eugene. “I want Ariel back.”

  “She’ll be back soon, and the demon will leave,” Eugene said, as though he were stating the end of a story he knew by heart. He hoped there was some weight to his statement. Ned took a deep breath collapsed onto one of the beds, staring up at the popcorn ceiling like it was full of stars.

  Eugene sat at the small table in the corner of Ryan and Shane’s room. They’d given him a key - said it would be a group effort. Eugene just wanted the demon gone so they could go too.

  “Wh - why are you two still here?” Shane asked impatiently when he and Ryan got back to the room. Ryan was nursing some sort of wound and, as Eugene noticed Shane was apt to do, Shane was treating it like a minor emergency.

  “We’re here until you fix this shit,” Eugene stated, “Quinta’s not here because her brother lives out of the city and she could get out.”

  Shane sighed. “Okay, but I need you to move so I can get to the sink.”

  Eugene obliged, moving from where he was leaning on the counter. Shane turned on the sink’s light, looking at Ryan’s hand. His knuckles looked bruised and a little swollen.

  “What did that brick wall do to you to deserve this?” Eugene joked, and Ryan looked at him with eyes so full of guilt and sadness that Eugene legitimately felt sorry for a minute. For a minute. And then he remembered that Ryan and Shane brought this upon themselves. Shane let Ryan tuck himself up against him as he checked Ryan’s hand, putting an ice pack on it.

  Shane didn’t step away, though. He just stood there, letting himself relax against Ryan’s body. “I thought I was going to lose you for a minute there.”

  “You thought…” Ryan looked up to him and, God , Eugene thought he was going to have to squish their heads together if they didn’t kiss soon. Shane was looking down at him with fear in his eyes. He really does love him , Eugene thought, glancing between their faces.

  They both said, wordlessly, “I love you.”

  Then, Ryan stood up on his toes and kissed Shane. Shane moved to cup his face, the kiss sweet and soft, and Eugene kinda wanted to barf. He was never a huge fan of kisses. He was a child of divorce, and all that.

  For someone who didn’t have a lot of faith in love, Eugene had a lot of faith in Ryan and Shane. He almost trusted them. Or, he wanted to - they were cute.

  Ned looked just as uncomfortable as Eugene felt. Shane turned to them when he realized they were still there, surprised. Eugene raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Oh, don’t stop on our account.” Eugene grinned, as Ned wolf-whistled.

  “I dunno, it seems like he’s enjoying the free show,” Shane said, nodding to Ned. Ryan, however, didn’t find the situation very funny.

  Ned laughed, and Ryan’s face only grew redder as he got more worked up.

  “I’m sorry, when you have any ideas on how to get rid of the demon that don’t include punching possessed people in the face, come talk to me,” Ryan narrowed his eyes at Ned. Everyone blinked at him, stunned into silence.

  “If I was wrong about the brick wall, who was it?” Asked Eugene, seeming vaguely intrigued by the concept.

  Ryan shook his head a bit, leaning into Shane. “Steven.”

  “You punched Steven ?” Ned’s mouth fell open, “Dude - that’s like, a capital offense in Andrew’s book. How are you still alive?”

  “I dunno,” Ryan laughed, “The fact that about thirty seconds prior he was threatening to kill him might’ve done it.”

  “God, you guys really did get close to dying,” Ned said, astonished, “I had no fucking clue.”

  “Generally, when people say they’re being attacked by demons, they aren’t kidding,” Shane interjected, “So - Eugene, you got any solutions yet?”

  Eugene thought on it a moment. “Actually, I think I do. A while ago, I had a dream. I think I was Ryan - I dunno. I was in a sleeping bag and Shane, you were curled up next to me and I couldn’t move and there was a demon standing right at my feet but I don’t think he could touch me -”

  “So… what are you saying?” Shane quirked an eyebrow at him. Ryan looked shocked for a minute, but he took Eugene’s dream in stride incredibly well.

  “That maybe, the key is love, or something,” Eugene frowned, “I dunno. Dreams aren’t an exact science. And that sounds like bullshit.”

  “I read somewhere that the trick was just to not be afraid of it,” Ryan shrugged, “But I tried that, and wound up punching Steven in the face, and, I mean, it worked, but the gloom ‘n stuff is still here.”

  “Were you really unafraid, though?” Eugene asked, his own piercing eyes reflected in Ryan’s startled ones, “You were brave, yes. But bravery and being unafraid… those are two different things.”

  Ryan snorted. “I’m not stupid -”

  “Ryan,” Eugene said, flatly, “We need to find a way to stop this thing before someone gets hurt - or worse.”

  “What if we burned the barn?” Ned suggested, looking to the group. They looked back at him. “It’d be a pretty damn good display of being unafraid, and without a central source, maybe the demon will leave?”

  Eugene blinked. “That could work. We’ll need to ask Steven and Andrew, though.”

  Ten minutes later and, across town Andrew sighed into his phone.

  “If you really think this will work.”

  .o0o.

  Ned creeped into the barn, feeling the wind raise the hair on his arm. Voices whispered to him, and he felt like running away or simply falling to the ground, clutching at his hair and screaming until they went away. They whispered horrible things about him. It was middle school all over again, when word that he was trans got out and ran wild. It was complete with insecurity, the need to hide his chest, the erratic feeling of paranoia in his lungs and toes as endless voices muttered that he’d never really be a man. It hurt like Hell.

  But he pressed on, to the quarantine stable. Armed with gasoline and a bundle of matches, he hoped that the rain wouldn’t wash everything away before the barn burned to the ground.

  He knew the others were outside with more fuel, anyway. He started in the quarantine stable, making sure to use a lot of gasoline there. He moved around the corners of the barn and, as he exited, he lit the match and dropped it onto a trail of gasoline.

  It felt cathartic, really. Like he was burning all the horrible people he’d come into contact with. Like he was burning the people who’d ignored him after he came out to them, or worse. Like he was burning up his whole past, like he was about to watch it go up in flames. He walked up to the front knowing he was going to enjoy this very, very much.

  And walked straight into the door.

  He tried the handle - when had he closed the door? - and he banged on it as the flames began to lick up the walls, creeping closer and closer to him. The room grew unbearably hot, Ned’s leather jacket sticking to his skin and hair damp on his face.

  “Let me out!” He screamed, “Somebody help!”

  The door shook with the force of Ned throwing his body against it. Just as the flames began to burn his leg, the door splintered around the lock and he fell into Eugene’s arms, shaking.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Eugene said, softer than Eugene had said anything, ever, “You’re safe now. Are you hurt?”

  Ned nodded - he’d been burned and there were splinters in his leg and just above his collar. Eugene spent the night doting after him, picking out the splinters carefully and pressing cool cloths to his burns. Ned was so shaken that it took him awhile after that to even talk, nevermind process the fact that he almost died. Shane and Ryan took one bed, Eugene and Ned took the other. Ned didn’t talk about the fact that Eugene held him close despite the fact that he knew Eugene hated cuddling.

  .o0o.

  Zach tripped over a rock, papers flying everywhere and heart thumping so loud he thought the whole town could hear. He scrambled back up, ankle feeling like it was malfunctioning. He had too much adrenaline in his system to feel much in the way of pain, but he knew he’d scraped up his legs and palms pretty good, and that he had a very sprained ankle.

  But he kept hobbling on, as fast as he could go without falling right over again. He had to get somewhere. He didn’t know where, just - somewhere.

  Zach was naturally clumsy at the best of times, so of course he’d tripped over the rock when he was running for his life in the middle of the night. His lungs still burned, even as he slowed to what felt like a brutally meager pace.

  Then, someone appeared in front of him. A hooded figure - Zach couldn’t see its face. A switchblade clicked, and Zach put his arms out, pleading on his tongue, preparing for the worst.

  .o0o.

  Eugene turned on the radio as everyone else looked out at the continuing downpour. By now, there was some minor flooding going on. Ryan kicked the wall.

  “Dammit!” He swore, “Fuck!”

  “Woah, dude, what’s going on?” Ned asked, eyes wide.

  Eugene answered before Ryan could speak. “He’s angry at himself for agreeing to burn the barn, even though he wasn’t the one who suggested it, and it was as good of an idea as anything else.”

  “Dude - what the fuck? How did you know that?” Ryan exclaimed.

  Eugene shrugged. “I dunno. I’m starting to think I’m psychic. It makes sense - back in Korea my mother was weaned on the teat of the town psychic.”

  “Wh -” Ryan wheezed, cutting himself off.

  “I’m serious!” Eugene said, “It hasn’t really been a thing until now, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense!”

  Shane and Ryan exchanged another one of their glances , and Eugene glared at them. And that’s when the radio said something that caught their attention.

  The woman’s crackly voice was quieter than anybody’s, but the word “murder” caused the room to fall silent.

  “-f twenty-seven year old Zach Kornfeld shocks the town. He was found stabbed to death in Wilder Park, at the hands of someone police simply can’t identify. With no witnesses and next to no evidence, there are currently no suspects.”

  Ned turned to Eugene. “Bud, I’m sorry -”

  But Eugene was just staring at the radio, unblinking, unmoving. Ned looked crestfallen too, to say the least. Ryan was reminded of just how small a town it was - Ned and Eugene probably knew Zach. Ryan felt horribly guilty. It really was his fault.

  “Don’t even start blaming yourself,” Shane murmured, hand wrapped around Ryan’s waist. Eugene looked like he was having trouble breathing. He was having a panic attack, Ryan vaguely thought, as he nestled himself into Shane’s side like the guilty, selfish thing he was. Eugene collapsed onto his knees, and still, Ryan watched on as Ned helped him, almost like Ned wasn’t really there, just something blank to guide Eugene away from his terror.

  Eugene gasped and swallowed, spitting out, “Everything’s falling apart.”

  Ned’s hand stroked Eugene’s back as he looked out to the torrential downpour. “I just wish the demon would get it over with and end us. I just wish he’d stop our suffering once and for all.”

  Ryan thought of Steven. For some of them, their suffering wouldn’t stop at all. It felt like years had passed, and they’d only been in town for a few days.

  “You’re right,” Shane said, stepping away from Ryan. “Everything is changing. But - okay - maybe there’s a bright side to this?”

  “Where?” Eugene asked, so quietly it might as well have not been there, “Where’s the goddamned bright side? My friend is dead , Shane, and my other friend sold his soul and this psychic stuff isn’t nearly as cool as I’d imagined!”

  “We don’t know for sure that you’re -”

  Eugene lunged at Shane, held back by Ned. “I do! I do, and I know for a fact that if it weren’t for you, or something, Ryan would be fucking dead too! And you would be just as scared as I am!”

  “I - I’m sorry, man,” Shane blinked, “I didn’t even believe in this shit a few days ago. I just wanted to come here with Ryan and watch him get scared out of his mind and laugh like we always do - and now - and now I’m responsible for so many horrible things and I -”

  Ryan just watched the scene as though he were behind a veil. Like he wasn’t even there. Shane sobbed and Ryan reached out for him but Shane ran out before Ryan could get his hand to his shoulder.

  Ryan shook, even if he couldn’t really feel it - as if his whole body was in front of the veil, his hand pressed to his mouth. Eugene was silent beside him, staring at the wall, and Ned looked like he was stuck between helping them or chasing after Shane. He walked to the door, closing it, and turned to face them again. He blinked, and his eyes were pitch black.

  .o0o.

  Shane made it a few blocks before he stopped on the sidewalk, dropping to his knees. “Please!” He begged, staring up at the abysmal sky, “Please - I know I haven’t believed in you for a long, long time - but I need answers and I don’t have them!”

  He screamed up at the sky in the empty night, pleading to someone he didn’t believe in to do something he didn’t believe God could do. His last please, I can’t lose him echoed through Main Street, greeting Shane’s ears just as they’d left them. Meaningless and facetious and just a way for Shane to cast doubt onto someone else. Shane sobbed into his palms, feeling his jacket soak onto his skin.

  He felt truly hopeless for once in his life. No answers, and the questions kept piling on and on and on. So he sat there, freezing, in the rain, letting it fall over his face and get in his eyes. If this was a movie, there would be a swell of music as the cameras closed in on Shane’s face, capturing it in the most beautiful light possible.

  But it wasn’t beautiful - and it wasn’t loud. It was quiet except for the sounds of Shane’s lamenting and the sheets of rain that just kept coming, and it was ugly, the way Shane’s face crumbled, the way his back hunched, the way he’d acted. Everything about his situation was ugly and quiet and it made Shane want to scream again. But if he did, he still wouldn’t have any answers. And, anyway, nobody would come to check on him.

  Shane looked over to find a shop - closed. But it drew Shane’s attention. He supposed it was the gloom or the demon’s influence or whatever, but he was attracted to it like a magnet. He stopped crying and took off his jacket, using it to smash open the glass door. No alarm.

  Shane walked in and picked apart the scene. It was a small, hole-in-the-wall place, decorated with nerdy posters and memorabilia. Shane looked at the desk at the front, and started looking for something. He didn’t know quite what. Then, he found it - a tattered book laying on the worn carpet floor. It looked as though it had been dropped.

  It had a name and a number written on it. Zach Kornfeld , Shane read, and felt sick to his stomach.

  And Shane told himself dead men don’t need books , and he opened it.

  Demons are a most foul creature, wretched souls that have been tortured so endlessly that their souls cease to be human, instead consumed by their own pain and suffering.

  Shane read along, a few sentences catching his attention. Demons feed on fear and hatred, so lack of either emotion should get rid of them , in pen, by the typed text.

  Huh. So Eugene was right.

  Another typed note caught his attention as he skimmed the rest of it. If a person sells their soul, and the demon who made the deal with them is destroyed, that person is free from the deal.

  Shane had to share this with them - he ran back to the hotel room, a fire in his lungs that was mostly there due to the fact that he was, like, super out of shape. His legs burned and his shoulder hurt for some weird reason and damn , Shane made a mental note to go running more often with Ryan when they got out of this hellhole.

  Of course, now that he thought about it, leaving the town felt almost… wrong. Like he was stuck in a fishbowl with nowhere to go, and if he left he’d cease to breathe. He arrived at the door to their room, and pounded on it with his fist.

  “Ryan! I don’t have the key - let me in! I know how to kill the demon!” Shane shouted over the wind, which had picked up, almost as if the demon knew Shane knew. But there wasn’t a reply. Shane, panicked, glanced out at the parking lot. Their Jeep was still there, so where was Ryan?

  Shane knocked on the door again. “Ryan? Eugene? Ned?”

  He stopped and listened and he could feel something wrong in the room. It wasn’t just his paranoia - there was something horrible in there.

  Shane grew frantic again, bruising his palm on the door. “Let me in! Get away from Ryan - fuck! - I love him! Let me - let me in!”

  The door swung open. Ryan and Eugene were sitting together in the corner, hands bound and mouths gagged with some strange thing that Shane couldn’t place. Oh well , he thought, It’s just weird demon goo, then .

  “You love him?” Ned asked, black eyes and silver tongue giving the demon away, “You really, really love him?”

  Ryan’s eyes widened, and Eugene shook his head, as if he knew they were doomed.

  “I think I do, you demon fuck,” Shane snarled, “And if you touch him -”

  “Don’t worry,” The demon said, “I won’t touch a hair on his pretty little head. I’m sure you know by now that love will kill me, oh woe!” The demon pressed a hand to its forehead, pretending to faint. “I’m so scared.”

  “You should be, ‘cus I’m not scared of you,” Shane hissed, eyes narrowed, “Why would I be?”

  The demon almost seemed taken aback, but it smiled anyway. “You may not be afraid of me - but your crush? Your little infatuation, your little project ? He’s terrified of me. I can touch him - I can hurt him all I want. But if you truly love him - if you don’t want that to happen, you’ll kill Eugene.”

  Shane found himself holding a knife, the book safely in the demon’s hands. “Do it - do it, Shane. Prove that you love Ryan, and I’ll be forced to leave.”

  Shane glanced between Ryan and Eugene, and back to the knife in his hand. And then, Shane dropped to his knees and set the knife down. He cast Ryan one more pleading look.

  “I’m not going to kill Eugene,” Shane said, swallowing and taking a shaky breath before continuing, “Because he doesn’t deserve that. But Ryan doesn’t deserve pain either. Please, if you’re gonna hurt anyone, hurt me. Because I love him too much to see him suffer. Please .”

  The demon laughed. It looked between Ryan and Eugene and Shane, and laughed. “You really think I’ll do what you say? You’re pitiful. I’ll hurt him, and you’ll watch, and then… when I’m done with him, I’ll hurt you.”

  Shane ignored the demon, trying a new tactic, and turned to Ryan. “Please, baby - I promise it can’t hurt you if you aren’t afraid. Just - just think about me, okay?”

  Ryan nodded, and Shane pressed forward into this unfamiliar territory, “Think of me with my arms around you, watching basketball or whatever, and - and think of going out on dates to Knott’s Berry farm and - and just try to stop being afraid. I know you - I know you can do it, okay, baby?”

  Shane had never really talked to someone like that, but it did something to Ryan. His shoulders squared up and he had tears in his eyes.

  “Okay, I’ve had enough of this,” The demon said, and the knife rose into the air and flew at Ryan. He stared at it as it approached, and Shane thought of Ryan buying him flowers, Ryan going window shopping with him and making fun of the latest fashion trends, Ryan going to cheap haunted houses with him, anything but the sound of Ryan screaming.

  And then, he realized Ryan wasn’t screaming. The knife had stopped a few inches from Ryan’s abdomen, and the demon kept flicking its wrist like something would happen. But it just twitched lifelessly, like it was stuck.

  Ryan tentatively tried at the bonds on his wrist, which fell apart. He spat out the gag and rushed over to Shane, tackling him in a hug. “It worked - holy shit, holy shit, Shane - it worked!”

  Shane kissed Ryan fully. The demon, in a body that was seeming more and more to be Ned’s, blinked.

  And then the demon screamed. It was an unearthly sound that pierced Shane’s ears - but somehow, he couldn’t care less. Ryan kissed back, and there was a blinding flash of light. The bonds at Eugene’s wrists fizzled away, but not before leaving the demon’s last mark. Eugene hissed as the imprint of the bonds was burned onto his skin.

  After a minute, Eugene spoke. “Do y’all hear that?” He said softly, eyes full of wonder.

  “Hear what?” Asked Ryan, still on Shane’s chest. His voice was slightly muffled by Shane’s jacket.

  “The rain stopped.”

  .o0o.

  Steven was still awake. It was six in the morning and he hadn’t slept and somehow, at some point, the rain had stopped. But that meant the demon could be back at any moment to collect him.

  “I love you,” Andrew said, like it was the last time he’d ever be able to.

  Steven sighed. “I love you too, buddy.”

  “You can’t call me buddy, we’re practically married,” Andrew rolled his eyes, “And, hey, listen -” He got serious, “Even if at some point you’re going to be taken away to Hell, or whatever, these years will still have been the best of my life. Even if the demon promised I’d be happy - I can’t really be happy without you.”

  “Were you, though?” Steven asked, “You never denied that you’d been depressed.”

  “Steven, I - you know I couldn’t help that -”

  “Well, you could have asked me for help! Partners are supposed to support each other! And I’m not just here for you when you’re happy!” Steven raised his voice, stomping his foot, and immediately feeling bad about his outburst. “I’m sorry - I’m just scared for you sometimes.”

  Andrew looked a little taken aback, and then his eyes softened. “I love you so much. I’ll - I’ll try to tell you next time.”

  “Thank you,” Steven breathed, relaxing a bit and kissing Andrew’s cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  .o0o.

  Ned looked wary as he waited for his mom at the park. When she arrived, though, he relaxed. She looked as though she had been crying. A lot.

  “Ned - honey,” She said, already looking uncomfortably close to tears, “I’m so sorry - I’m so, so sorry - I don’t know what came over me, but I was so terrified -”

  Ned’s resolve to be angry at his mom broke and he rushed forward, scooping her up in a hug. “Mom, it’s okay! It’s okay. You were afraid. We all do horrible things when we’re scared.”

  Ned’s mom shook her head, “It’s not okay! I was so scared of the Lord’s judgment for my baby that I kicked him out. That’s never okay. You know I’ve been going to that nondenominational church lately, where they focus a lot more on tolerance, and -”

  “And I love you for it,” Ned said, squeezing her and letting her go, “You’re doing your best. And I know you didn’t mean it - I think the rain just got to you.”

  Ned’s mom nodded, and Eugene noticed they were both crying. Eugene smiled, his own eyes watery.

  Eugene knew everything would be okay for Ned. Ariel would be back in town, soon, and Ned’s mom would give him more leftovers more often for a while before everything went back to the way it had always been.

  And it was all like it was before, except Eugene and Ned had a few more scars and a few more stories they couldn’t share.

  .o0o.

  Ryan and Shane left the next weekend. Steven was assured that the demon was obliterated and couldn’t take him to Hell, Ned had reconciled with his mother, Eugene had found the man who’d robbed him and had the money returned (plus some extra for damages).

  As Shane packed the filming equipment back up into the jeep, he turned to Ryan. “This feels wrong, right?”

  “Yeah.” Ryan nodded, “Like… like we’ve been through so much in this town we belong here now?”

  Shane gave a small noise of agreement. “Yeah. Like we’re leaving ourselves behind.”

  Shane didn’t think he’d belong there, either, though. Like they didn’t belong anywhere, now.

  They stood there for a moment, and Shane climbed into the driver’s side of the Jeep. Ryan took a seat on the passenger’s side. They passed the diner on the way out, and Ryan saw the vigil for Zach taking place in the recently repaired front room. Ryan turned to Shane, who had his aviator sunglasses on and hair windswept. His heart still hurt.

  Ryan watched the fields pass them by in a slow, melancholy way. He didn’t feel free any more. Just like he was the same small, trapped thing he’d been when the demon had inhabited Ned’s body back at the motel. He wanted to go to Zach’s vigil so bad, but Shane had promised that they would not be missed. They hadn’t even said goodbye.

  “Do you think there’s more demons out there?” Ryan asked as they stopped for gas.

  Shane thought a moment, and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Wanna never get involved with another one again?” Ryan leaned up against Shane, both of them looking out at the fading dusk around them.

  Shane paused again. “Absolutely.”

#mod #txt #fic #sb #stan #PLEASE rb