Chosen One - Chapter 9

[madbottoms]

Title: Chosen One - Chapter 9
Summary: Our favourite tortured boys are back in this third and final instalment in which they try to outrun Hell.
Notes: See chapter 1 for disclaimer warnings and related info. Apologies for delay between chapters. Enjoy this next part.

 9

Trial by Fire

*~*

IANTO

“What’s going on?” Jack’s voice startles me, and I lift my forehead from my hand. “What’s a Mage?”

“Tell him,” John spits, darting me a look that could kill.

I sigh deeply. How did I not remember the Mage? When I realised I was demon again—that Jack didn’t want me anymore—I’d willingly gone back to Hell with Suzie, hoping Lucifer would throw me into the Fiery Pit and be done with me. But instead, He decided to make an example of me. He tortured me for days and sent the Mage into my head looking for Jack. And I was weak. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of him—giving it what it needed to find him. At just the memory I can almost feel it tearing through my mind, looking for him. And I can see Lucifer’s satisfied sneer when He knew the Mage had found him.

“Mages are creatures of the Abyss.” I stare out over the water because I can’t make myself look at Jack. “Like me,” I add, and feel my face twist into a grimace. “But they live in the Shadowlands—the space between planes.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Jack asks impatiently.

My eyes flick to his. “One of Lucifer’s Mages found you in my head when Suzie took me back.”

He just stares blankly at me. “What does that even mean?”

My jaw grinds tight as self-loathing eats at my gut. “It means I’ve put you in danger.”

He looks at John. “So, what’s new?”

John reaches up for his hand and holds it as he says, “This is serious, Jack. Mages can invade a mortal’s dreams. So I need you to be honest with me. Have you had strange dreams?”

“How would I know if there was a Mage? In my dreams, I mean?” he evades, sinking to his knees in the sand next to John.

He heaves a sigh of frustration, but I speak before he can press him further.

“Mages are the demonic equivalent of a nightmare. They work their way into mortals’ heads, which is easier when your conscious thought slows—just as you fall asleep. They may or may not show themselves in the dream, but either way, they’ll show you things—what they want you to see—through other people’s eyes in your dreams.”

“If it showed itself, what would it look like?” He sifts sand through his fingers as he asks, avoiding eye contact with either of us.

“It would appear as it is, I suppose. Black, shadowy, insubstantial.” I try to read his face as I say it, but it’s intentionally blank.

He drags in a heavy breath and holds it for a moment, thinking, then blows it out, seeming relieved. He straightens and looks at John. “I haven’t…” but he goes pale as his eyes widen. “Wait.”

John leans toward him, and I can see the concentration on his face.

“You’ve seen it,” he says.

“Get out of my head, John!” he shouts, pulling his hand away from him.

“Make me,” he says, shifting onto his knees, closer to him. “Push me out.”

Jack’s face sets, determined, but after just a minute he crumples, defeated. “I’m never gonna be able to do this.”

“So, answer my question,” John says, softer.

Jack stares hard at him, but then his face softens and he nods. “I had a … Owen was floating, dead, and I was drowning. There was a black face with red eyes … just for a second. It pulled me under the waves,” he says, looking haunted.

I have the distinct feeling there’s more he’s not saying, but, for now, it’s enough to know the Mage has found him.

Alarm flits behind his gaze as he looks at John. “How do we get away from it? Do we have to leave?”

He shakes his head. “This is one demon we can’t lose so easily.”

Panic cuts through me like a cold dagger. I need to distance myself from Jack—to gain my infernal power back. But if the Mage has already found him then there is no time.

I hold his gaze, trying to keep my head straight and not get lost in his eyes. Steeling myself, I take a deep breath. “In the dream where you saw the Mage … did you see anyone else?”

He shrugs. “Owen … like I said.”

“No one else?” I press, my voice hard.

“This thing is just in my dreams, right? If it’s only in my imagination, what’s the big deal?” he asks, his jaw set and his eyes narrow.

“It’s much more than your imagination, Jack,” John interjects. “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating it just because it’s not part of our physical world. In reality, that makes it even more dangerous.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, his glare swinging back to me. “So, you’re the expert on stuff from Hell. What’s the danger?”

My chest clamps tight and I’m having trouble finding air. “It’ll show up in your dreams for one of three reasons. First, to show you something it wants you to see; second, to try to decipher where you are, or third…” I hold John’s gaze, “… to allow Lucifer to follow it in.”

John’s eyes narrow and Jack’s widen. “Lucifer?” he says and shudders despite the sticky heat. “What do you mean, follow it in? To my head?”

“Mages are splinters of His essence. Once one is in your head, if its connection is strong enough, it’s like a part of Lucifer is there, and the rest can follow.”

Panic spreads across Jack’s face. “You mean, for real? He could show up here?”

“Not in corporeal form, but His essence, which is no less dangerous.”

Jack pushes himself to a stand, staring down at me. “I need to think.” He turns toward the water.

I watch as he walks down the beach and drops into the sand on the other side of the bungalow.

“What are the chances that Lucifer has already found him?” John asks, his voice tight with barely contained fury.

I shake my head. “Hard to say.” My eyes shift to Jack, where he still sits in the sand. “You’d have a better handle on that than I would.”

Quicker than lightning—literally—he’s on me. Before my human eyes can even register that he’s moved, my T-shirt is wadded in his fist, and his face is an inch from mine. He grits his teeth and spits, “I had one shot at this. Now there’s no way he’ll be ready in time.”

I plant a hand on his chest and shove him back. “What the Hell are you talking about?”

“You’ve killed him.”

*~*

JACK

I lie back in the sand and stare up at the haze of the cloudless sky. I’ve never felt so trapped in my life. Caged. Even in my dreams I’m not free.

Staring out over the cresting waves, I work on letting them calm me, slowing my racing mind. My mini victory over my Sway seems pretty insignificant now.

Lucifer—in my dreams.

I close my eyes and the memory is so sharp it cuts—the feel of His black bat wings pressing me to Him, the burn of His cold heat, and how much I lusted for Him.

My breathing comes in short pants. I feel sick.

I force the thought of Lucifer away and think of nothing but the rolling waves. With the waves comes a rhythm. And with the rhythm comes a tune—a familiar tune that I can’t quite place. I hum along softly as it loops through my head, feeling more relaxed, and see the flashing image of a beautiful green-eyed boy.

I open my eyes, trying to remember. I know the boy. I’ve seen him before. But where?

When I glance up the beach, I catch sight of the guys, and at first I can’t figure out what I’m seeing. They’re moving across the sand, just at the edge of the surf, close and then apart.

Are they dancing?

I squint at them and despite everything, feel a smile pull at my mouth.

But the next second John lunges forward, grabbing Ianto, and they go down hard on the sand. John’s fists fly, and Ianto seems to be trying to push him off, but then he cocks his fist and pounds it into John’s face. John’s head snaps back, and he rolls to the side. And then he’s back on top of Ianto, his hands around Ianto’s throat.

I sprint up the beach as Ianto twists John into a leg lock and throws him off. Ianto hauls himself out of the sand and stands over John.

“Stop!” I yell as I reach them, standing between them with my arms out. “What the hell are you doing?” I realise I’m shaking when I hear it in my voice.

“Tell him!” Ianto demands, wiping away a trickle of blood from his split lower lip with the back of his hand. “You’re putting his life in danger. The least you can do is have the decency to tell him.”

John pulls himself to his feet. He leans toward Ianto, and I hold him back with a hand to his chest. “I’m putting his life in danger? You’ve done nothing but endanger him from the moment you came into his life. We wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you.”

A shadow passes over Ianto’s face and his gaze drops to the sand.

“What’s going on?” I ask, feeling the shake work its way into my legs, which suddenly feel like jelly.

John’s eyes connect with mine, and there’s something in them, a combination of shame and fear, that I’ve never seen there before. He grasps my arm, not so gently, and starts walking. “Inside” is all he says, but his expression is deadly serious.

John all but throws me onto the couch when we get inside, but I have the distinct feeling it’s not me he’s mad at. And I don’t know what to think about Ianto. He sits in the chair glaring at John as he lowers himself onto the couch. For someone who just got done telling me he didn’t care what happened to me, he seems pretty concerned.

I look between the two of them. “So?”

Ianto glares death at John. “Enlighten him.”

John sighs deeply and hangs his head. “This isn’t how I was hoping it would go,” he says.

“How is it going?” I ask.

He lifts his head and glares at Ianto. “Too fast.”

I touch his arm, drawing his eyes. “Tell me.”

He blows out another sigh, but he doesn’t divert his gaze. “We were supposed to have time. I was going to work with you—train you to protect your mind and use your Sway.”

I nod. “You said that. I’ve been working on it,” I say encouragingly, thinking of the boy on the beach.

“But we’re out of time, and you’re not ready.”

“You’re worried about the Mage,” I say.

“Tell him,” Ianto interjects, and when I glance at him, his face is hard, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“It’s not just that.” John drops his gaze. “The rest of the plan was to use you to lure Him here.”

“Him?” I ask, afraid I know the answer.

His eyes flick to my face then away. “Lucifer.”

I feel light-headed as all the blood drains from my face. “J … John…” I stammer, but that’s all I can manage through my shock.

“You’re insane,” Ianto finishes for me, glaring out from under his hand, where it pinches his forehead.

“Maybe, but He’s coming anyway, thanks to you,” John spits. “And now there’s nowhere we can run.”

“So, you’re just going to let Him come here?” I ask. “Take me?”

John’s expression is caught somewhere between panic and resolve. “No. He won’t take you.”

My heart beats out of control. “Who’s going to stop Him?”

He locks his gaze with mine. “Me.”

Comments

[lilferret]

Yikes. John is out of control.

Also, I'm distracted by your mood theme. *_*

[madbottoms.livejournal.com]

Yeah, that mood theme is quite distracting. :)

John is most certainly not thinking straight. It might get him into all sorts of strife soon.

Oh and I have about 8 chapters of yours to still read and comment on by the way.