Theodora had wandered downstairs after hearing all the commotion. After hearing that the creature haunting her lay in the kitchen, she hurried into the room, closing the door connecting the kitchen and living room behind her.

Dylan reached out with his still trembling hand. He tried to grasp Edward's hand, his sleeve, anything at all that would connect him to the Messenger. He failed. He couldn't even close his fingers. Couldn't make a fist. "Eddie ..." Dylan didn't care how plaintive he sounded, or how needy. He'd just been possessed by a demon. He felt horrible. So wanting some comfort was only normal, wasn't it?

Eddie looked around, sitting alongside Dylan and grasping his hand. It felt... deathly. Cold. Limp. He hated that. It made him want to shiver, but he pushed that desire aside. Pushed it all aside. Breathing gently, he shook his head. "Got you. I've... I told you to go. Maybe this'll help you understand you can't always be present with the same things I can. Not like this. God, I thought I lost you for a minute..." The idea made his aching wound hurt more, though it was nearly healed. "I don't want to lose you yet... Stupid, maybe. But true. You're not going to stick around any other exorcisms like this, are you?" His tone was beseeching, hopeful. Regardless of how... bullheaded Dylan was, he couldn't stay with Eddie through every little thing. No matter how much Eddie wanted him to be able to.

Dylan crawled and shifted towards Eddie. He settled his head on the other man's lap. The sigh he let out was one of utter relief. Even contentment perhaps. "But if something happened to you ... " Dylan swallowed hard and kept going despite the lump in his throat. "If something horrible happened to you and I wasn't there to say goodbye, I couldn't bear that!" His voice was a whisper on his last words. "And if I ended up becoming a Messenger, I would do everything I could to see you again." Dylan couldn't believe the vehemence of his own words, the utter certainty that he would do exactly that.

Eddie shook his head, the movement a more jerky motion than anything, and threaded his fingers through Dylan's coppery hair. "I'm too hard to kill, you know that... This would have been a simple thing if it hadn't gotten you. I could have broken its seal and destroyed it without so much as a broken nail." He offered up a little smile at that, hoping he could get one from Dylan. "If I'm not allowed to worry over you all the time, you can't worry about me just the same." But it didn't mean he wouldn't conceal his worry and, perhaps, bring it out in a painting. Something dark and stormy with muted colors and a lot of red and black.

Dylan sighed. "I hate feeling so damn helpless." He shifted a bit. Theodora would have found it odd, even unbelievable, to see her journalist friend cuddled up on another man's lap.

And she did, when she walked in. "Uhm ... I was going to ask about payment, but ... I think I'll just slip out now."

Dylan tried to straighten up, so he could talk from a less embarrassing position. "Theo! Come on, don't be like that."

He was calmer now, so when he shook his head again it was a smoother movement. "You're not helpless---" When Theo returned, Eddie startled out of his comment and slid away from Dylan. "Stay down, damn it, you're not in any state to move around." He pulled his jacket closed around the bloodied spot on his white shirt and cleared his throat. "Don't worry about payment---consider it a favor for a friend. Or the friend of a good friend..." He lowered his gaze and swept his hair back again. "You... Ah, I'll leave you two to talk for a minute. Dylan shouldn't be walking for a few minutes." He took a few steps, then a few more, until he slipped out of the house and onto the stoop outside, relishing the soft, cool wind that met his face. And the scent of singed trees no one else would detect.

Dylan watched the Messenger leave.His face had fallen, filled with worry and confusion. "Damn it ...."

Theodora settled down beside the copper haired man. "So what was all that about?" Her friend never went for men .... If he had, he'd probably have slept with Emmery at least once. The crazy artists had even convinced her to to jump into bed with him once.

"He's more then just a friend."

"Well, I kind of saw that. I didn't think you liked guys."

Dylan sighed. "I don't, in general. But he's different. Actually, he's probably the only guy I could ever have fallen for."

Theodora smiled. "How romantic."

The air grew warmer, the scent of sulfur and burning trees and hot iron more powerful. Glancing back to the door, Eddie slipped through the Veil and shook his head when the sun almost instantly vanished behind those steel gray clouds and the fog returned. The entire house Theo called her own was draped in thick silk webbing. The only splash of color now was the horse-sized harpy-like creature with thick, bony wings flapping its fiery tendrils at the Messenger in the middle of the street. He was laughing hysterically, and if Eddie hadn't seen his antics before he would have been convinced Oliver had gone completely mad. The sickle-like blade in his hands whipped forward and sliced effortlessly through one of those raging wings, and the harpy-like demon roared, spitting hot acid and molten steel to the ground, trying to force it to splash onto Oliver.

The lanky Messenger didn't register Eddie---and all the well, too, because he narrowly avoided another swipe from those tentacle-like tendrils, jumping onto the curb and eventually a car, and snapping his sickle forward. It seemed to melt in his hand, whip forward and strike the pointed, fanged face that was coming after him. Eddie took another moment, then breathed out, sliding back out of the Veil and into the living world. He had to blink frantically in the sudden sunlight, then took a step to sit down and wait for Dylan to come around.

Theodora slid Dylan's arm around her shoulder. It was with hobbling steps that the young man made his way outside, and the help of his friend. Before they quite crossed the threshold, Theodora stopped. "I'm happy for you. Just don't mess this up, alright?"

"I won't." Dylan laughed.

She eased Dylan to the steps, beside the Messenger. "Be careful you two, and take care." She smiled. "Don't hesitate to stop by if you're in the neighborhood." Theo waved and walked away.

Dylan took the opportunity to cuddle up to Eddie.

Eddie listened to the quiet, smelling the burning substances. If he closed his eyes and focused he could actually hear Oliver taunting the demon and the creature's enraged screaming in response. They rarely knew any human language, so Eddie had no idea what was being said in response. Probably nothing but angry curses anyway. When Dylan and Theo came out, he smiled kindly her way and nodded, raising a hand in a half-salute and putting a protective arm around Dylan, mindful of the arm that was still injured.

They were silent for a time, then Eddie looked at him. "There's a fight going on about twenty feet away from us."

The younger man leaned into Eddie without a second thought. He really he were the one doing the protecting, the one taking care of the Messenger. As he was now that was impossible. He shook his head. "There is?"

He closed his eyes. Listened to the world all around, and focused on his other senses. Burnt ... He could smell something aflame. Sulfur tinged the air with a rotten egg smell. "Who is it, that's fighting?"

Eddie smiled and nodded, gently rubbing his hand up and down Dylan's arm, avoiding the injury. "It's Oliver. He's got a fire-based demon cornered. I can't really see it happening, but I can... hear it. You can probably smell the demon. Or even hear it going on if you focus in enough. Seeing as you have some form of Sight, you'd be able to get a sense or two beyond the Veil without moving all the way through." He looked up, but of course couldn't see what was happening. "Whatever's going on, Ollie has it pinned."

"If Oliver's here, then where's Emmery? Weren't they talking about seeing each other again?" Why was he always worrying? Worrying about Eddie, and worrying about his friends. He worried about his mortality, more then he ever had before. Dating a Messenger certainly made him think of things like that. About what might happen if he died, or if Eddie did.

He sighed. "Whatever." It was too depressing to think of for too long.

Eddie pulled his arm up and squeezed Dylan close to him, leaning over a bit to press a kiss to his forehead. "Stop worrying so much." He muttered. "You'll die young. And I don't want to see that happen so soon." He paused, breathing in Dylan's scent. Soap and human and everything that was Dylan. Only Dylan, at that. He blinked up when he heard a snap, and Oliver seemed to appear from a puff of mist. He looked singed, his hair was standing on end and there seemed to be a small tendril of smoke emanating from some unseen place on his person. But he was beaming.

"Woooah, that's a hell of a wakeup call." Oliver laughed, pocketing the knife that was now more of a small brick of metal in his hand, dusting his hair. "So I figured you two would hole up for the day since Eddie's got an off day." He looked from Dylan to Eddie, rubbing his face free of smoke and shards of ash.

"Worrying is all I can do, it feels like." Dylan sighed.

And suddenly Oliver was there, smoking. He was literally smoking. "Well one of my friends had a demon problem... So Eddie took care of it. I got caught in the cross-fire." Because he was unlucky like that. Every time the young man faced a demon, he got hurt. It was just the way things were.

Oliver spared a slightly more sane glance at Eddie and then dropped to his knees in front of both of them. "Hey, you guys are gonna be okay." He nodded knowingly. "Just figure this, yeah? Eddie hasn't ever lost someone he's loved to a demon. Or aaaany demon issues. Sure they got banged up a little but it healed. Hell, you got more of a chance to be hit by a piece of space crap than offed by a demon." He stood and stretched, dusting off his jacket. "Now if you'll excuse me, I got me an artist to jump." He snickered, rubbing his hands together and crossing the street. Eddie shook his head, fighting a smile.

Dylan laughed a bit and shook his head. "That man is so weird." He was smiling when he tilted his head to stare at Eddie. Slowly, he lifted a hand to press it against the spot of red marring Edward's white shirt. The copper haired man leaned over, and pressed his lips against the Messengers. His fingers curled into the fabric, and his heartbeat quickened to a faster then normal place. The cold the demon had let behind in its wake was fading fast, replaced by a warmth that could never quite be chased away.

Emmery's feet were up high on the dashboard. On his lap was a sketchbook. The page before him was filled with scribbles that looked like a person in motion. Impatiently, he flipped to the next page and started making wide motions with the charcoal clutched between blackened fingers. He was worried. He never worried, not about anyone! Not like this. Nothing he drew came out right, no matter how hard he tried.

Eddie leaned into the kiss, letting his fingers twine in Dylan's hair but not pull hard at it, nearly feeling himself melt away from coherent thought. Why Dylan was able to do this to him---more than anyone else he'd ever recalled---he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was supposed to be that way. He pulled away before they completely forgot where they were, pulling the human into a close hug "We should get home... really soon..."

The sun was so bright it took a few minutes of staggering to get his bearings. Blinking hard, Oliver found his way back through the alley he'd cut through and found himself behind where Emmery had parked. He'd taken a few detours to get away from the demon and Em had been none the wiser. How wonderful it could be to do one's job without anyone leaning over them, whining about due dates and programs and this or that or the other. He crept up behind Em and slid his tongue over that sensitive spot behind his ear, massaging the human's shoulders. "Hey, baby, you waitin' for someone?" He spoke quietly, leaning down so his lips were nearly brushing Emmery's ear.

Contradictory wants tugged and pulled against each other. Dylan did enjoy the kiss, the way it made him forget the throbbing pain of his arm. At the same time, the writer dreaded trying anything more then that. No, it was more then that. He was afraid.

So it was a relief when Eddie pulled back, and pulled Dylan into a hug. "We should." He hid his face. "I know you expect more then kisses and hugs, but I can't ..." The writer knew his words were nearly quite out of the blue, and yet he had to say them. Had to make that much clear to the Messenger.

Emmery gasped. Charcoal slashed across the page he'd been working. The artist leaned his head back, tilted to expose his neck. "I was. But I don't think I need to anymore. My dark angel's here." Where those words came from, he wasn't sure. His heart was racing too fast, and the quick thought of endearment felt too right to be taken back, or worried over.

He lifted his hands, and slid them over the Messenger's without a thought. The scent of smoke was stronger now, then it had been before. It overpowered the musky smell Em had begun to identify with Oliver.

Eddie shifted slightly, just enough to catch Dylan's eyes. "Don't." He said, a slight bite to his tone. "You won't do anything you aren't ready to do. Got it? I don't expect anything from you." Except affrction, maybe, like this, like what he'd avoided for ages. Too long, really. It was frustrating, now that he thought about it. Frustrating to keep bottled up and ignored and pushed to the back of his mind like he wasn't human anymore. Of course he was, and ignoring it was stupid. He stood and pulled Dylan to his feet, using his uninjured arm. "Come on. We should get back, waste some time before tomorrow arrives." Tomorrow would be busy, but he wanted to tell Dylan later.

Oliver hummed gently, flexing his fingers under Emmery's hands and licking the human's ear lightly. "Dark angel, eh? I'd like some wings... Black wings. Wonder what I'd look like then." He could imagine that easily, somehow. Big black wings to hide away from the big bad bright world, hide with someone that really seemed to know him and wasn't afraid to show his crazy side. He went around the car, ungrateful that he had to break his contact with Emmery even for a moment, and slid into the passenger side. At least he didn't have anything on him that would dirty the car's interior. "I'm a little singed, but I can clean up well." He shrugged and looked down at himself. Soot on his skin, not on his clothes. Almost-burns that would vanish by tomorrow. "Hope I didn't worry you too much." He said, looking up and inspecting the crazy black and gray on the sketchbook pages.

Dylan flinched. It was easy to let himself be manhandled, when he thought he had done something wrong."Alright." Had he done something? The writer started obsessing about it. The Messenger had grown up in a different time entirely, within a culture and society that Dylan knew barely anything about. It would be quite easy to mess things up, to say something that stepped on invisible entrenched things that he knew nothing about.

Emmery whined softly. He didn't want Oliver to part from him,, ever. Not for even a moment. The inexplicably strong emotion made him reach out, and grab hold of Oliver's hand in a too tight grip the moment he was able to.
"You bet your ass I was worried." He squeezed lightly, and used his other hand to start the car somehow.

Driving one handed wasn't too hard for Emmery, especially when the destination was his home. It was surprisingly close to the Messenger compound, now that he thought about it. "We're going to my place. There's a painting I want to show you."

Pausing, Eddie studied Dylan carefully and raised a hand, brushing fingertips over his cheek. "Are you okay?" He couldn't pretend he hadn't heard the odd tone the human's voice had taken on when he stood, like he had become reserved. After the possession Eddie felt like he should handle Dylan with care, though the human probably didn't think the same way. "Did I do something?" He took a step back at the idea. Maybe he was having second thoughts about their being together. Maybe what Dylan was feeling was more of a strange mix of fear and gratitude and anger at their predicament---maybe he still wasn't in his right mind after the previous attack that had left one arm sewn up and bandaged, and was actually coming around now.

Oliver returned the squeeze to his hand, clasping Emmery's between his own and rubbing the back of his hand softly with his thumbs, small circles as if in meditation. "New painting, eh?" He smiled coolly and let his head rest against the seat, staring up as long as he could before the vividly bright sky made his eyes water. "Can't believe I'm surrounded by such good artists." He felt calm. The energy he'd had earlier had mostly been expended in the fight with the demon, and he was somehow feeling so much more at peace. It helped that Emmery's hand was in his, familiar despite their short meeting. Too familiar, really, but it felt good.

The young man sighed. Was it always going to be a weird dance between blissful moments of understanding, and horrible times full of roiling miscommunication? Surely there was a way to find some kind of balance. Dylan glanced at the Messenger.

"I'm just ... really mixed up." Slowly, he extended a hand and wrapped it around Eddie's wrist. "This is so new to me, everything is. But mostly this thing we have going on. I mean, I'm used to being on equal footing with my ... partners, or being the one doing all the protecting. Being protected all the time is absolutely the last thing I ever expected." Dylan's voice was subdued. Soft spoken. Absolutely the opposite of how he was, usually.

Emmery nodded with a smile. "Yeah. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and needed to put it down on canvas." The car veered through side streets, leaving behind the more residential neighborhood where the Messenger compound lay. Some retail buildings started popping up, between houses and commercial buildings.

Amid all the grey and pale buildings, one white sided church stood out. There was no cemetary, if there had been Em wouldn't have bought it, and the yard was well kept. There were hints of the place's residential status a bit everywhere. A splash of color here, a splash of color there. Em nodded towards it. "That's my place."

Eddie felt his mouth go dry at the thought of letting Dylan into danger's way. Danger now, anyway. He grasped the hand that closed over his wrist and pulled him to the car. "Come on. I want to talk to you about something." He went to the vehicle, where he'd parked not far from the house, and opened the door for Dylan without thinking. Then he went around to the driver's side and slid in, but didn't start the engine. "I wanted to tell you about this later. But tomorrow a small group of Messengers, including myself, is going to visit the Council compound to be debriefed regarding new Messengers. We hold a... a camp of sorts, where we develop and give out your requested weapons, teach you how to identify demons based on size, element, strength, and location, use your weapons on test dummies and eventually small demons, elevating to larger ones as time goes on, and finally, crossing the veil without effort. With you, I have a feeling you can cross without my help, but you just need practice."

He went quiet for a moment. "I know you want to protect me as much as I want to protect you---I can see it plain as day. But the camp doesn't happen for two weeks, and I just want you to know that I have faith n you. I know you can handle yourself, just... not yet. Not without knowing about demons, how to see and feel them and avoid them if you don't want a fight. You just have to give it time. If you're willing to participate in the camp, I mean."

Oliver hummed lightly in response, thinking about what could inspire Emmery. Anything, no doubt. Anything in the world could be put on canvas or paper, he was sure, if someone just had the right amount of talent or patience. He squirmed slightly in anticipation and looked out the window, seeing a large building come into view. "Oh woooow." Oliver leaned forward and grinned. "Wow, that's amazing... You live in a church? Those things have the tendency to be haunted... Ever experience something like that?" He was curious now, about the church, about Emmery's paintings, about ghosts... About the human himself. Everything seemed predictable, but not in a boring way; it was welcome, really. Something rare that he was looking for.

Some of the tension Dylan had been feeling eased. A sigh of relief escaped him, before he could hold it back. "Good. That's good." The importance of that training camp couldn't be underestimated. Certainly not when Messengers were involved, including the only living one that had ever been.

The young man inched over to the Messenger's lap without even asking if such a thing was alright. He expected it would be. That was something that had never crossed his mind to do with a woman, though he was certain that at least one of his former girlfriends would have been alright with it. But he was with Eddie now, and trying very hard to get used to it.

The artist laughed, and hopped out of the car. He opened walked over to the passenger side door, and held it open for Oliver with a flourish. "Yeah I live in a church. Yes, it's haunted, but not by anything bad. They don't bother me, I don't bother them and we're all good." He grabbed Ollie's hand impatiently, and tugged him from the car.

"Come on!" The grey eyed man raced to the front door and opened it hastily. At the center of the church was his workspace, and at the center of the mess of it all was a completed canvas. With of course an image of Ollie's face, emerging from a swirl of colors. It was towards that painting that Emmery headed, tugging at Ollie's hand all the while.