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hvlfwygod · 3 years

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boxing day | major & abel & lucien (& gabriele)

summary: a surprise opportunity, a battle, an exorcism, a close call, a rescue

tw: stabbing, blood, broken bones, it’s a lil nasty

His head hurt. There had been this pushing, insistent pressure building up behind his eyes all day, and he could barely focus anymore. He was walking back to the Hebe cabin, ready to go to bed despite the early hour. The sun had only just set, but he was squinting just enough to see in front of him, trying to block out the streetlights with his hands. As time went on (how long, he couldn't say) the pressure only got worse, though. It built up and built up and built up until he had to crouch down and put his head between his knees to fight off nausea.

It wasn't clear to Major how long he'd been in control, distracted as he was by the sensation of his head splitting open. It'd been so long since he'd been at the front of his own mind, he almost didn't believe it when he willed himself to move and his body reacted readily. But he didn't allow himself to marvel at it: like every other time this happened, Major had a lot to do and no time to do it. He'd already wasted who knows how long just sitting there, halfway between himself and someone else.

Even though his head was still hurting, Major moved fast. He scrambled for his phone and immediately abandoned the idea when he saw that it was— of course— not fucking charged. Instead, he ran the rest of the way back to the cabin.

"Syd!" he called, practically falling through the front door. But all the rooms were dark and no one was home. Feeling desperate, Major started moving again before knowing exactly where he was going. It became clear to him after a moment, though: some small part of him remembered the party, another lifetime ago, where he'd met Abel. Abel, the person who saw him, knew he was here, and was trying to get Lucien out.

Maybe being the one in control would make it easier. Major didn't know, but he had to try. He ran up and down familiar looking streets, knocked on a few wrong doors, until he finally made it to the right house. At least, he hoped so as he banged frantically on the front door.

December 26th. It was a day of rest after their busy week. Picking Bailey up from Michigan, doing their best to help her recover, hosting groups for Christmas Eve and then the day of. They felt that they had earned a day of nothing. Still, there was a knock on their door.

Abel cast a glance down at Soup. Roommates off on their own misadventures (aka, normal human socializing), the two were in the living room alone and, naturally, sitting in the dark. “You think I should ignore it too, right?”

The cat blinked and Abel sighed as they stood and crossed the room to answer the door. As they opened it, they immediately tensed. Their spear had to be close by; their shield even. Why would Lucien come looking for them if not for a fight. Gabriele had told them to wait, and yet here was the perfect opportunity, presenting itself. They grabbed Major almost without thinking, yanking him inside as they aimed to pin him up against a wall.

The small wave of relief at seeing Abel answer was quickly brushed aside as they reached for him. Major yelped as hands closed around his shirt and pulled him inside. He held their wrists for leverage and tried to stop himself from falling over as Abel pushed him up against the wall. "I'm not—" he struggled to form a sentence and forced himself to let go and hold his hands up. "It's... I'm Major. I know you're trying to..." He trailed off but gave Abel a pleading look. "I don't know how long I have."

Their eyes betrayed their emotions. Anger turned to skepticism to relief to understanding, and they only loosened their grip slightly. "Then come with me." They kicked the door closed before turning towards their room, afraid of letting their mind buffer for too long. If they could restrain Major, then by the time Lucien took control once more it would be too late for him to get away. "Tell me how I can help you."

"I don't know," he admitted in a small voice. It took him a moment to move again, but he eventually followed Abel further into the house. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, as if trying to hold himself together. It was only when he placed his hands against his ribcage that he noticed how badly he was shaking. "I don't know. But if this doesn't work can you, tell my sister?" Major blinked a few times in a poor attempt to keep his eyes dry. "Her name is Sydney, she lives in the Hebe cabin."

They crossed the apartment into the room with a light, the warm glow of their snake tank almost sinister given the circumstances. Once in their room, Abel took no time to search for and then produce rope. "I've spoken to her already." This was not comforting, they realized, and exhaled as they decided to explain to Major more. "I... don't want to tell you much. In case he gets the information. But know that we're trying to help you, okay? I'm trying to figure out how to do something to him without doing something to you. You regenerate, ya?" They looked down at the rope in their hands. "Can I tie you up? It'll be easier to restrain him while you're willing, and then I won't lose him again."

Knowing that Syd was already aware and trying to get him back made Major nearly stop in his tracks. He almost bumped into something in the dark and stumbled into Abel's room as a few tears slid down his cheeks. "Okay," he said quietly. Major just nodded at Abel's explanation and lowered his hands. "Yeah," he answered. "I, think I heal faster, too, but if I—" His train of thought completely derailed mid-sentence, and Major pressed his eyes shut as a wave of anger washed over him. "You should start tying me up," he mumbled.

Abel looked at Major with sympathy but not pity. This wasn’t a job for a paycheck or personal reasons, it was a job to help a man who was going through something unimaginable. “If you...?” Abel prompted as they took Major’s wrist gently and moved his arm behind his back. The knots were less gentle. They wanted to make sure that they were tight enough to give Lucien a hard time.

He didn't respond right away, too busy focusing on not fighting Abel off. His head was hurting again, this time pulsing with increasingly sharp pains. "If I die I come back," he said, a little stiff and breathless, as if he were holding something heavy. "But I don't know how it works. What are you planning to do?"

The tinny ringing started, sharp and disarming for a moment, making Abel shake their head as they took pause, then continued. “I’m no killer. But I’ve never extracted a ghost from a human. I’ve been warned it could get... messy.”

A chill travelled down his spine. "Then I'll try to—" But whatever else Major had to say about that was lost. Lucien's reaction to this was enough to pull himself forward the rest of the way. He immediately acted, the last word still falling from his lips as he jerked his elbow upward, connecting somewhere on Abel's face. He yanked himself away and tried pulling at the ropes around his wrist to no avail. But his legs were free, so he started to sprint, heading back toward the front door.

Abel grabbed their face rather than at Lucien, then swore as they watched him run away. They staggered back, more disoriented from the blow than they thought they would be, but then forced themself to run forward after him, figuring knowing the layout would work to their advantage, as well as the fact that his hands were tied up. Should’ve done the legs first.

Lucien bit back a curse as he tripped over something, surely alerting Abel to exactly where he was. He gave up on going straight for the door, and instead pressed into the wall while he twisted his arms to grab at the knife on his waist. For everything else that had gone wrong tonight, at least Major hadn't let it slip that he had a weapon. He just barely managed to grab it and get it behind his back before he heard Abel approaching. He fumbled to turn the blade toward the ropes as he ran further into the apartment.

Abel watched as Lucien stumbled around. They hadn’t even considered that they’d have the advantage of being able to see when he couldn’t, but was glad that they could. Their spear was back in their room, and their shield by the door, but they took off after Lucien while reaching for their utility knife instead, afraid of him doing something if he ran into Soup. As they approached, they let the shadows engulf them, fading from vision, and kicked Lucien’s leg to knock him off balance.

One second Abel was there, and the next it was darkness, and then he felt a blow smash into his leg so hard that he immediately dropped to the floor. "Fuck!" he groaned. His head bounced off the floorboards and his knife—which he held onto for dear life— bit into his arm, drawing blood. He groaned and switched tactics again, deciding to stay on the ground and buy himself time. Lucien arched his back and tried pushing himself away from Abel a bit with his feet. He started cutting at his restraints as subtly as he could, glaring up at Abel as he did. "Fuck you," he sneered at them. A bit of the pressure released around his wrist. "If you try anything I'm dragging that motherfucker out with me.”

Abel moved forward and dropped down on top of Lucien, one knee against his chest. They grimaced at Lucien, almost as a way of showing their teeth than anything else. "You can't do that." They had no idea if he could do that, but they were pretty sure he was bluffing. "And if you could, don't you know I have friends in low places? He's not going anywhere."

He knew that his words would cause a reaction, but he hadn't expected Abel to come down so hard. Lucien grunted in frustration and then in pain. This time his grip on his knife was lost and he felt the blade cut into a hand. Lucien snarled back at Abel and tried to wriggle out from under them, grabbing hold of the knife once again despite the pain radiating throughout his palm. "No," Lucien struggled to catch his breath before he continued, "it's already too late."

“You really believe that?” Abel snarled back, grabbing Lucien by the hair. “Not only do I have to deal with an insolent ghost, but an ignorant one.” They brought their fist down towards his side.

Lucien's heart was racing with adrenaline, but he forced himself to stay calm. It was always moments like this where he lost his control, and he couldn't afford that right now. He writhed away from the blow and pulled his wrists with renewed vigor. He'd managed to cut it loose enough before that now the ropes broke after little resistance. Lucien leaned as much pressure as he could from one side of his body so he could lift his already-bloody hand out from under him. With a grunt of effort, he stabbed blindly at Abel's leg.

Abel yelled as they were stabbed, only holding tighter onto Lucien’s hair. You deserve this for not checking if he had weapons. This is textbook, Abel. They grunted and looked from their leg to Lucien. They could attack him and possibly incapacitate him, or they could disarm him, and keep the knife from leaving the wound. They went for Lucien’s wrist, trying to get him to let go of the knife without twisting their own body too much.

As soon as the grip released from his hair, Lucien started struggling more wildly, kicking his legs and twisting his body around in an attempt to get away. His other, more injured arm made it out from under him, numb and bloody and hard to use. The fight to break free also cost him his hold on the knife. Lucien made an angry sound and pounded his hand into Abel's other leg as he pried himself out from under their knee. He took in a ragged breath as he righted himself, but didn't waste his time. Practically trembling with anger, the thought of running away had completely left Lucien's mind. Instead, he tackled them. "It's too late," he repeated as he struggled to pin them down. "You should've just fucking— let me be!"

Abel prioritizing the knife and not moving it just made things complicated, they realized, when their balance was thrown off and they were looking up at Lucien, who was now holding their wrists down. They were bent backwards, already shifting the knife in the wound, and they inhaled sharply as they brought their good knee up, once and then again, trying to knock the wind out of Lucien as they tried to pull their hands free. They thanked the fact that they were in the dark, letting the shadows ebb around them, creating a barrier between the two.

His left hand was screaming as Lucien continued to apply pressure onto Abel's wrists. Teeth gnashing in determination, Lucien bore the blows to his body as best he could, but his arms couldn't keep Abel down. Their hands broke free as the second knee smashed into his ribs. Lucien quickly turned toward Abel's injured leg, gripped the handle of his knife, and pulled out the weapon roughly. I hope that hurt. He brought the knife back down— this time aimed at their chest— but a dark wall blocked his attack. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

The knife getting pulled out was pure agony, but Abel still managed to hold their shield up– it was a good thing too, as Lucien’s attack bounced off of it. Pride seemed to swell in Abel’s chest along with their fear. They were not about to be bested by an untrained ghost when they were a child of Hades who knew how to fight. As their shield began to fade, they formed a blade from the darkness, reached up to snatch Lucien’s wrist, and yanked to pull themself up as they pulled Lucien down, sending the dark blade into his shoulder, hoping to incapacitate this arm as well. “Λείπω,” they hissed as their face was close to their ear. “Or I will make you.” They grit their teeth, letting go of the shadow blade to hold a hand close to Lucien’s face, trying once again to force away the spirit within.

In another instant, Lucien was back on the floor and his shoulder seemed to partially explode. A pained cry escaped him involuntarily, but his voice died in his throat once Abel commanded him to leave. For a brief moment, Lucien's whole world went soft and shapeless, but he scrambled to come back to the moment. Ghosts swarmed in protest, trying like him to anchor themselves in their new body. A deep ache formed in Lucien's chest. "N...o..." he struggled, tasting metal as blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. "You won't... get him back. You can't."

Abel kept their grip strong on Lucien’s wrist despite the way the resonance of the ghosts seemed to reverberate throughout them. They turned their head away so that they could bite down on the collar of their shirt, gnawing at the fabric in an attempt to better handle the pain. Instead of replying to his threat, they just anchored themself and pressed their hand into Lucien’s face, trying to find the right spirit to pull from the body.

Another unwilling wail rang out of Major's body: it wasn't his, or Lucien's, voice. His body jerked, trying desperately to get away. Lucien clawed at Abel's face with his free hand and started writhing. It felt like something, somewhere in his chest, was about to break apart and he could do nothing to stop it. "I'm not— going. I'm not—" This time, his cry was quieter, but far more pained and agitated. He heard a worrying snapping sound and then coughed up some more blood, right into Abel's hand and consequently all over his face.

The blood was concerning and disgusting, but what really worried Abel was the snap. They didn’t relent, however, not even as Lucien began to claw at their face. They had gotten a hold of something, and though it wasn’t Lucien, it needed to come out. They dropped Lucien’s wrist to press their hand into his middle, opting to create armor with shadow to protect themself instead as they pushed at the same time that they pulled. They were past overexerting themself, but they didn’t care. This was coming out, and Lucien was next. They bit down harder on their shirt.

An agonizing burn spread over his skin, and Lucien lost a few seconds of lucidity, and then whatever unlucky ghost that had been grabbed was gone. For a disorienting moment, he wasn't sure if he was really there, taking a few gasping inhales, if his body would move if he willed it. "Listen to me," he rasped quietly. Another gurgling noise, a muffled half-laugh, and Lucien's arm twitched upward but grasped at nothing. "Listen, I'm serious. He's not going to make it if they're all gonna be like this."

Abel came to the terrible realization that Lucien was right as they pulled out what they had a grip on. It wasn’t a full ghost, but a patchwork of a few, trembling as Abel barked at them to leave once more. With nothing to tether them, they sank into the ground, the parts of them that remained dismissed. There was no telling exactly how many more were inside this body, but Abel could tell that if every extraction went this way, Major’s regeneration might not be enough. Still, they didn’t want to give Lucien the satisfaction of a reply, so they jabbed at his head once, twice.

The lack of a response was enough for Lucien. He blinked through the stinging in his eyes and angled his head back so he was staring up into Abel’s face. “I’m not even talking about physically.” The longer he was still, the more this terrible ache settled in his torso— so he tried sliding up along the floor somewhat. “I was dead for a long time, do you know what that did to me? Your friends in low places, they ever tell you what it’s like?” He sneered. “Not all of me came back. I don’t know what, but I can just— I can tell, so when I woke up in this body with all these ghosts, and this whole other person...” Lucien tried to move more; he succeeded in inching his arm slightly, nothing else. “I filled in all the gaps. I took what I needed, and you can’t—“ He managed another laugh, grimacing through it. “I can’t even fucking tell anymore what’s me and what I took. If you pull me out, and he survives it, he’s not going to be the same person. He’s not, and he’ll always know something is missing but won’t ever know what. That’s what I mean when I say you’re too late.” Lucien finally saw a decent enough angle, and willed himself to move through the agony in his shoulder to thrust his arm— and the knife— upward.

Pain as a knife found its way into Abel’s side. It was blocked and slowed by their armor, they were sure it would have been worse had they not had the hardened shadow to help them. But still, they could tell this was bad. They’d spent most of their adrenaline rush fighting, and now they weren’t sure if their leg was going to support their weight if they stood. Even so, Abel let out a spiteful laugh and pushed into the shadow knife, just burying it deeper into Lucien as they pulled him closer. “You come all this way just to give that shitty speech?” They growled, taking a ragged breath before continuing. “You have no idea who you’re talking to. I don’t need my friends to tell me what it’s like; I’ve been to hell and back myself.” They grasped the hair at the back of Lucien’s head, then yanked his head back to force him to look at them. “A long time? Try being dead for three years. You know nothing.” Their mouth tasted metallic, but they just continued on. “I want you to look at me and know that some do not decompose. Just the weak.” Their eyes burned, both dark instead of their usual two tones. “You can’t fill in any gaps. He’s a whole person. You. Stupid. Fuck.” They released his hair and brought their fist down on the back of his head, much weaker than before, hoping that their stamina would win out over his.

Lucien was nearly delirious with pain, which might’ve explained why he continued laughing despite being hit again. His arm barely had any feeling left in it, which might’ve explained how he managed to rip the knife out of Abel’s side and stab them again, this time closer to their stomach. They had to be bluffing, they had to be. “Three years and you don’t know shit,” he slurred, pushing himself upright as best he could. “How’d you make it back, huh? How come that’s allowed and I’m not? Fuck you. Fuck you.” Lucien grabbed Abel’s shirt to pull himself up further and pushed them backwards. “If you get to decide if I live, do I get to decide that for you, too?”

As Lucien moved, Abel predicted his movements enough to concentrate their shield on their stomach, and the wound they retained was much more superficial than the others. They pushed themself up more, then winced, back down on one knee. There was no way they could stand on that leg, darkness empowering them or not. They were shaking, and the floor trembled with them. “I made it back because this is my body. What you’re doing right now, you are not living. You are a virus. παράσιτο,” they hissed. Shadows swelled around them, covering their arms, chest, half their face, seeping into their wounds. “I came back because I am Abel Benoit, child of Death. So you’re going to have to try harder to kill me.” They leaned back into the shadows, fully absorbed and invisible now, before lunging forward to get Lucien back on the ground.

What would keep them down? Every time Lucien got a little bit of leverage, Abel hit him back. As he slammed once again into the floor, desperation melted into anger and prompted him to reach for his assailant’s throat. “Give me a fucking break,” he snarled up at them. “I fucking waited, I waited and I held out and I made it back. I deserve to be here, I’m more alive than you and your reanimated fucking corpse. I care about living more than any of you.”

Even Abel, the ruler of waxing poetic, knew when the time for saying cool things was over in a fight. There was also the fact that there were hands around their throat, making it difficult for them to deliver a monologue. They drove two knuckles down into Lucien's windpipe, a quick but strong jab to keep him from breathing. They grinned down at him, letting the fact that they seemed unhindered speak for how well they could hold their breath since coming back.

His hands unlatched from Abel's throat a little too readily. Lucien couldn't do more than make choking sound to relay how pissed, frustrated, panicked he was. He struggled to take a breath and resume fighting, but his head was spinning too badly, and his control felt shaky at best. He wanted to punch Abel back, but his arms refused to move anymore. "Fuck off," he groaned through clenched teeth as the fight began to melt out of his body. Linnaea! he tried, frantic. Lin! Can you hear me? I need you. But she was too far away, or maybe he was already too far under, because he didn't get an answer before he completely lost control.

Major couldn't understand how his body had managed to hold out this long. But for as much pain he was in, he was grateful to still be conscious, since he'd had enough time to claw his way back to the surface. He took another few rattling inhales and pressed his eyes shut. "Abel," he wheezed. "I—" he coughed and tasted more blood, "sorry.”

As the hands fell away from their throat, Abel grabbed them to pin Lucien down fully, and soon they recognized that it was Major they were holding down instead. "As am I," they rasped back. The shadows melted away from them, and their head spun as they found the knife, cut into their shirt, and ripped it to make strips so they could begin tying Major up once more. They pocketed the pesky blade and did their best to tie knots with shaky fingers. "Are you as close to passing out as I am?" They found their phone, but the screen glitched as they tried to use it, and they held it out to Major, before realizing that he couldn't call anyone, as he was tied up. They laughed and hung their head. "Shit. Can you move your hands or did I do an effective job tying you up this time?"

In a matter of minutes, Major was leaning against a wall with his hands and ankles tied in front of him, and it was the safest he felt in months. He was overwhelmed with how badly his body hurt; his arms protested even the smallest movement, like taking Abel's phone. "You did it fine the first time," he mumbled, wincing as he lowered the phone into his lap. "It's my fault. I should've said he had a..." Major's eyes misted over as the gravity of what was happening hit him all over again. He felt so far away, and Lucien's taunts from earlier were replaying in his head. "Um. Who should I call?"

“Don’t say that any of this is your fault or you should have done anything. You don’t have to apologize.” Abel lowered onto the floor, curling up on their side as they heaved ragged breaths. “Um. My roommates. Or Gabriele. Or a healer. Someone like that.” Their eyes darted without their permission, and they sighed. “Thank you.”

It was hard to feel reassured by that when Abel was beside him looking so pained. Instead of dwelling on it, for now he focused on finding someone who could help. Major was tempted to call Syd, but he thought he might completely lose it if he talked to her, so he just found the only name Abel mentioned and switched to speaker phone.

Gabriele was in the middle of a jog when his phone started ringing. He checked the screen without breaking stride and frowned at Abel's name glowing back at him. If they were calling, it had to be serious. Gabriele slowed to a walk and answered. "Hello, friend, is everything okay?"

"Can you come to Abel's house?" Major asked, not bothering to even attempt explaining what was going on. "I think the door is unlocked. Please, it's important."

"Who is this?" Gabriele asked, already turning toward the townhouses.

He shifted and inhaled sharply as pain flared through his torso. "Major."

A long silence followed this, then Gabriele finally responded. "I will be there in five minutes."

Abel’s eyes began to tick. Right, right, right, down. Right, right, right, down. They let their eyes half-close and focused on breathing through the pain. “Hey,” they said quietly to Major, pretty sure he was off the phone by now. “I’m sorry for taking so long on this, and I’m sorry for how much it’s hurting.” Their eyelids fluttered as they felt a familiar presence come and settle in against their stomach. “Where were you during that?” they jokingly chastised Soup quietly before continuing to Major. “And I don’t know how much you can retain while he’s... present, but I don’t want you to believe a word he says. He sounds really compelling, but so do demagogues, and you don’t listen to them, ya?” They rested a hand on Soup, hoping they wouldn’t get blood on his fur and worry their roommates when they got home. “You’re gonna feel different after this, but it’s not because he took something, it’s because that’s the human reaction.” A shudder ran through them, but their lips ticked upwards. “Do not go gentle into that good night, ya?”

Any feeble attempts Major had been making to keep himself together broke once Abel started speaking to him. He was so sick of this. He took a few shaking breaths as tears began to streak down his face. "Thanks," he mumbled, his voice breaking on the word. But as much as he appreciated their comfort, all Major could think about was how little time he had before he was pulled back under. "I'm trying my best."

It was almost five minutes on the dot when Gabriele shoved open the front door. He was breathless from sprinting, but he still rushed toward Abel's room, only stopping short once he found the two bodies sprawled on the ground in the hall. "Porco cane..." he whispered, dropping by Abel's side. He glanced toward Major, too, noting the restraints. "Explain later, what do I need to do?" he asked, looking between the both of them.

Abel wasn’t very good at comforting people, so they were quiet for the rest of the time as they waiting for Gab. Each second seemed to stretch on for ages, and they could feel themself being pulled under as Soup pressed himself into their stomach, causing them to hiss in pain, but thankful for something keeping them conscious. Their breathing was growing shallow when they heard someone enter their house, and they had regained control of their eye movements, but chose to keep them closed. “Hospital,” they said quietly. “Sorry, I should have called someone with a car.” Now that Gab was here, they relaxed a bit more, nearly melting into the floor. “I might... ambrosia in my room. Some drawer. Only a bit,” they muttered into the floor, their breathing slowing down more. “Can you leave a note for my roommates?”

Gabriele ran the rest of the way toward Abel's room. He emerged after a minute with the ambrosia, then propped Abel up slightly and fed them a few pieces. "I'll call for help. And tell them..." He glanced over to Major once again.

While Abel seemed to relax in Gabriele's presence, Major was more stiff and cautious than ever. Even though it'd be two against one, the last thing he wanted was for Lucien to slow everything down. "Just make sure he doesn't get away," he said when Gabriele looked at him. "I don't care what you have to do."

Gabriele nodded. "I'll take care of everything," he assured them both. "Major, sorry to meet again in such circumstances."

"Me, too," he muttered.

Before he did anything else, Gabriele called for his goddess. While she couldn't fully intervene, she helped move him along quicker than he could have managed on his own. He called an ambulance, wrote a note, and gently helped get Abel and Major into the truck once it arrived, all in a matter of minutes. He even found a set of keys and locked the front door on the way out. Gabriele charmed his way into the back of the ambulance and began to explain, as discreetly as he could, the importance of keeping an eye on one of the passengers in particular...

He wouldn't let himself get his hopes up. Major had taken control twice tonight, and both for prolonged periods of time. He'd never managed such a thing before, but he could feel Lucien's rage rumbling inside of him. He knew the moment the painkillers hit, he'd go under, and probably be unable to surface for a long time. A fresh wave of sadness rolled over him, but for once, Major didn't feel completely hopeless. Still, he wished he'd thanked Abel more, he wished he had more time. But everything he wanted to say would yet again go unheard, since it wasn't long until the pain started to fade out of his body, and Major finally passed out.

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