[fic] A Demon In My View 2/2

[desiredeffect.livejournal.com]

Title: A Demon In My View
Authors:
desiredeffect
And
corliamat

Summary: *hiss*
Part: 2/2
Pairing(s): Ry/Col
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: AU. Mentions of non-con and other stuff. Swearing, I think... I could be wrong. I don't remember anymore
Author's notes: Okay, so Cae posted a manipulation of demon!Ryan. And me, being me, got inspired and wrote about 1000 words of a story. THEN Cae decided that hey, she should help out too, and 3000(ish) words later, this fic was finished :P This is our first co-written story, and hopefully you will not explode from the ... demon possession?

Cae is purty. :P And I will not insult her again to make sure she don't take me to a taxidermist.

Disclaimer: It's not lying, it's a gift for fiction

Part 1

--

"Gabriel."

"You have found him?"

"Yes. How do you wish me to proceed?"

"By any means neccessary."

"Very well."

"Tread carefully."

--

Ryan's eyes flash red before fading, but the cheerful green was dull, dark, tinged with a sort of arrogance that was accompanied by the slight quirk of his lips as he smirked at his quarry. Sharpened fingernails tap a rapid staccato on the tabletop as he observes the figure sitting across from him.

"Tell me... what are you exactly?"

"Shouldn't I be asking that question?" Colin replies softly, chancing a brief look at the other man.

"C'mon Col. What. Are. You." The way that his name sounds on Ryan's tongue sends an involuntary shiver down Colin's spine. Ryan's hand stops it's tapping on the table and reached out, grazing down Colin's face. Jerking away, Colin gasps when the nails scrape across his skin, leaving fine lines across his cheek that dot with red as the blood begins to well up.

"Don't touch me!" he hisses, drawing back, away from this thing. "What the hell are you?"

"Hell has nothing on me" the invader chuckles before a hand flies to his temple, fingers digging into the skin.

Ryan shudders and his eyes take on a slightly lighter hue. "Col...run! Please baby, just go. Get out of here! Get away from here now!" Before he snarls animalistically, his hand finding it's way around Colin's windpipe, knocking the chair backwards as he shoves Colin back against the wall, grip tightening ever so slowly.

"You haven't a clue what hell is." And Ryan's voice is dangerously low, eye's dark and furious, a dull red burning within the depths of them.

Colin scrabbles frantically, hands clawing at the air, the wall, the hand around his throat, trying to free up the airway to his lungs. "Ryan..."

"Say it, Col. Or your life is forfeit."

"What do you want me to say?" Colin's voice is choked and raw as he forces the words out past a lump in his throat and the grip loosens. Falling to the floor, legs crumpled underneath him, he takes in a gasp of oxygen and Ryan stands above him.

"Tell me who you belong to."

His mind is empty, thoughts scared away and breathing ragged, almost feeling the finger shaped bruises blossoming on his neck. And Ryan is there again, a hand wrapped in the material of Colin's shirt and pulling him to his feet.

"Who do you belong to?"

Colin meets his glare, searching those forest eyes for a sign, any sign that the man he loves is still there. A sign that he can still hear him.

"Ryan."

"Useless. Pathetic. Coward. You want to know what he's thinking Colin? Of giving up. Letting go. Letting me take him over. Letting me possess you, take you, mark you, fuck you blind, fuck you raw. He's losing Colin. He knows he is. You should feel the despair, it's delicious, the cries for help that no one can hear, the screaming in agony as I tear down another defence. It's beautiful. You should appreciate that."

And all the time Colin's screaming inside his own head. Begging for release from this mental mind fuck, whimpering softly. shutupshutupshutupSHUTUP.

He feels each word like a brand, something tearing down the fragile walls he'd built, stripping him and leaving him metaphorically naked.

"Are you going to let me do that to you Colin? Tie you, bind you, mark you, and fuck you. Let me wipe away any last trace of the man trapped inside his own meat suit." And, in the most Ryan-like voice Colin's heard the demon use since this whole ordeal began, he continues. "Please Colin, I promise, I'll make it good for you. Please. Let me, I promise I'll be gentle..."

"No" Colin breathes, shaking his head.

With a strength that Ryan had never possessed, even as a young man, he picks Colin up, hoisting him over his shoulder.

"Wrong answer."

Colin's struggles go unanswered as the man carries him into the bedroom, dumping him, without ceremony, onto the large bed, holding him down to quell his struggling.

Ryan leans down, breath making gooseflesh rise over Colin's flesh before capturing his lips, invading the space with his tongue, tainting the wet heat beyond his lips, and Colin tries to move away, to stop the befouling of his mouth, already tasting ash, to leave. But Not-Ryan's hands clamp down over his arms, and his struggles become in vain, pinned by the weight of the man above him, straddling him, marking him.

Wrong. It's not you. Ryan! Forgive me! Please! Help me. Save me. I need you...

--

Later he's wrapped in Not-Ryan's arms, wide-awake and broken, unshed tears shimmering in his eyes and he blinks them away.

"I needed you." He says softly to the room.

"And he still needs you. Don't give up Colin. He's fighting. Why aren't you?" The room replies, and Colin chokes on a breath.

"It's easy." The voice sounds like it's both there in front of him, and everywhere, all at once. "Just, believe Colin."

And the soft warmth Colin felt flood his system slowly disintegrates and reality decides to reclaim its stake, and Colin gasps loudly this time, shutting his eyes and trying to turn away.

Goawaygoawaypleaseican'tdealwiththis. I'm nothing. I'm useless, how can you expect me to protect you Ryan? I never could. I still can't. Oh god.

Somebody help me. Please... anybody.

Colin's body jerks as the previously unshed tears slide down his cheekbones, clinging to his eyelashes, he sobs quietly as Dark-Ryan turns in his sleep, withdrawing his arm from around Colin and turning away. But Colin feels the touch on his skin like a burn, searing into his flesh and tainting him.

I can't. I just can't. I don't know how.

Trembling, shaking from head to toe, Colin eases himself out of the bed and Not-Ryan rolls over to claim the space. Carefully, slowly, he makes his way into the hallways, palms sweaty and slipping off the walls as he attempts to keep his balance, keep his movements light and noiseless.

The bathroom is empty but Colin refrains from turning on the light, hands gripping the edges of the sink so tightly his knuckles are turning white, tears splashing hot and salty down his cheeks.

“I can’t-I-I-don’t know how to save you R-Ry.” He sobs, even as his hand gropes blindly for the medicine cabinet. It’ll be over soon. So soon. His hand closes around the bottle of painkillers and he closes the mirrored cabinet, finally looking up to stare morosely at his reflection.

He’s not expecting his heart to seize up with terror when he catches sight of the softly illuminated figure standing behind him.

“Hello.” The figment of Colin’s imagination, believing he’d finally gone undeniably insane, murmured quietly.

“Uh-“

“I know that you have a great number of questions, but please, believe me when I tell you that I do not have the time to answer them.” The voice was soft, gentle and the words, delivered in an almost musical way, caressed Colin’s mind, soothing the raging torrent thoughts that ran through it.

“I am Lukas, think of me as a guardian angel of sorts.” He feels, rather then hears the wry humour make itself known.

”Am I dead? Please tell me I’m dead, I can’t take it, don’t know how, why. Ryan. Ryan! He’s hurting; I couldn’t watch him suffer, with that… that-thing controlling him. I couldn’t fight, couldn’t protect him like I should’ve. Useless. Worthless.”

“Colin.” Lukas breathes softly, milky white arms encircling Colin from behind, and blue eyes that seem to stare into Colin’s very soul watching his face in the reflection of the mirror. “There is no time. He is waking. I am sorry for doing this.”

A hand presses itself against Colin’s chest and Colin feels his heart stutter, faltering under the unearthly touch.

Doing what? Colin goes to ask breathlessly, but his throat has locked up and Lukas has disappeared. He feels a light pressure building, prying gently at his mind, testing the limits before slipping inside.

This, Lukas replies, voice echoing in the recesses of Colin's mind, I need to possess you, in order to be victorious, in order to stay unnoticed - for now. Colin please. Help me. Just believe.

Colin has no will to protest, but he feels the thankyou in the form of a brush of air against his cheek that feels suspiciously like the stroke of a feather.

"So." Dark-Ryan begins, framed by the doorway with a threat in his voice, and Colin shudders, caught out, a whimper of panic lodged somewhere in the back of his throat. Ryan moves forward and Colin stares down at the sink, unwilling to turn around. His knees tremble with the effort of keeping himself upright as Lukas’ voice reverberates inside Colin’s head, whispering sweet nothings, attempting to calm him down.

"Trying to save yourself from me, Colin? From what you let me do? Take away all that nasty pain and free yourself from what you’ve suffered? Hmmm, apparently I haven't taught you well enough. You are nothing Colin. You're mine until I say otherwise - and I never will. You're mine to use, abuse and-" He bites hard at the junction of Colin's neck and shoulder and Colin yelps. "-own. Possess. Play with. Do you understand?"

"...no. I don't. You're not. Not him."

"Rebellion Colin? So you do have a backbone. I was afraid I was going to have to rip out your spine to get a reaction. After your earlier display of...obedience," Ryan's voice stresses the words like it's something filthy. "I thought I might have to do something drastic to bring out your fighting side. More fun to break and mould, that way." His smile is like ice, tightly controlled fury, and Colin manages to shake off his grasp and turn around, one hand splaying in the centre of Ryan's chest.

"Ah, I see." Not-Ryan says eventually, arrogance once more on display. "You know you lost last time you fought me. What makes you think you can win this time?"

"Belief." Colin says simply, expression calmer, and posture more relaxed then it has been since this started.

"I thought I'd pushed him to breaking point."

"It would not seem so. Though you did a number on him before he called."

Dark-Ryan smiles, a sarcastic quirk of his lips. "You know saying things like that can get you expelled."

"There is not a chance of falling. Not for me, Ryan. Not unlike you. What did you do in order to be granted such a gift as falling from your place? To lose your wings, as the humans say."

"I don't see where that's any of your business, Colin."

"I am about as much Colin as you are Ryan and we both know that." Not-Colin replies, voice soft, but eyes flat and as hard as agates, even though the colour of his irises have lightened to a pale brown.

"My point still remains. My business is my business."

"That is okay. It was a rhetorical question." Colin smiles, stepping forward, trailing a finger down Ryan's cheek before scraping his fingernails across the cheekbones, mirroring Not-Ryan's earlier move, the scratches on Colin's face already knitting together and beginning to heal. "Why? Why did you stoop to that level?"

"Let me get this straight, right now. I didn't stoop. I was pushed. No one refuses me. No one."

"I can. Do." Light-Colin presses a hand against Ryan's chest lightly, hearing the demon's gasp as the pure force burnt him, flinching and backing away. Colin follows until Ryan is pressed back against the wall, and Colin's eyes are harder then agates. "And I know how to stop you. You know fallen angels cannot inhabit dead bodies. Especially if the crime they committed was murder."

Not-Ryan draws in a sharp breath, eyes wide. "You can't."

"Watch me." The hand over Ryan's heart slowly clenched and Ryan gasped, squirming around and screaming in terror.

Stop it, god, stop it please! You're hurting him!

Calm down Colin, he is fine.

God stop it, please, he's hurting. You're hurting him. I don't want him to hurt, please. Don't!

It will be over soon. I promise.

And Colin's voice screams alongside Dark-Ryan's as Not-Colin closes his hand, fingers resting on his palm, and stopping Ryan's heart.

Steam begins to pour from Ryan's pores, and Not-Colin shuts his eyes, sweating at the effort involved in containing the form abandoning Ryan, evacuating the six foot forever form, and trying to ignore Colin's hysterical cries and protests.

"In Nomine Patris," The room shakes, objects deserting their positions and skittering across the floors, the table, the walls. The phone clatters to the floor and the dial tone bleeps weakly, books fall out of their shelves that, only marginally blotted out by the sound of breaking glass as pictures shatter within their frames.

"Et Filii," Colin grits his teeth, keeping his hand clenched as the released form of Demon-Ryan attempted to reclaim the body he had so recently vacated. The demon in his pure form, a shapeless mass of inky blackness, always turning, always moving, searching, probing for weaknesses to exploit. It's trying harder now, expending more effort in order to make Light-Colin lose his concentration.

It breathes silent whispers of deceit into Colin's ears, trying to catch the older man hiding somewhere inside his mind off guard and cause him to lose control, to take back his body and reject the higher-version of him, which, in turn, would allow the spirit to re-enter Ryan's body and once again claim control. "Resugam." It hisses in the direction of Light-Colin, malice and venom coating the words, but Colin doesn't flinch. "I will come back. You know it to be true. And you cannot stop it."

"Et Spiritus Sancti." Not-Colin gasps out, hand clenched tight, and the demon that had possessed Ryan promptly explodes. The swirls of dark gas and smoke spin outwards and begin to shine brightly, disintegrating against the onset of the brilliant white light.

"And I will be waiting for that day, demon." Lukas pants, with a self-satisfied smiled.

You killed him. You killed Ryan.

As Light-Colin kneels down besides Ryan's fallen form, he returns his closed fist once more to hover lightly over Ryan's heart, and Colin screams obscenities where no one can hear them. With Colin momentarily distracted in mourning his loss, Lukas opens his hand, Colin's hand, and places it palm flat against Ryan's chest.

The first gasp of Ryan taking a breath silenced Colin mid-rant.

Ryan? He asks silently, and even though Ryan had no way of knowing that Colin had even spoken, he tilts his head up and catches Colin's gaze. Or, at least, caught Not-Colin's gaze.

"Who..." He begins, hand held over his heart, as if to reassure himself that it was still beating. "...are you?"

"I do not think you would understand. But try to let me explain. I am a Virtue. More commonly known as an Angel of Grace, or as one of 'the shining ones'. I could not bear to watch the both of you suffer."

"But-"

"I, unfortunately, have no time left here. I must leave. But, I must ask of you, Ryan, to be gentle with him."

"Always, Colin. Always, I promise."

"Fiat." The angel smiles a Colin smile, before screaming, and Ryan knows that this is the real Colin this time, head thrown back in complete agony. Ryan makes to scramble backward instinctively at the noise, but clenches a hand around Colin's instead and squeezes tightly.

"Colin. Col, calm down. You've got to calm down."

"Can't. You're hurt, so hurt. Dead, Ryan. He's hurting you. Couldn't protect you. Couldn't save you. I'm sorry, couldn't do anything was so weak I-" Lips brush against Colin's forehead and he quiets somewhat, letting out a soft whimper. "It's okay, Col. Ryan says softly, glancing, for what feels like the first time in years, at his best friend. "It's okay. We're okay. It's over. All over. C'mon Col, just breathe."

How long they stay there for, Colin's head cradled in Ryan's laps, hands gripped tightly, they couldn't say.

Then Colin looks up, finally returning Ryan's gaze and smiles gently, but the pain is still there, still visible and the scars will take a long time to heal.

But for now they're okay. And that's all that matters.